Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 1

November 6, 1901

"Are they really serious about rebuilding that monstrosity?"

Thomas William Hiddleston's blunt query brought Sor Matilda's annoying chatter to an abrupt halt. Knowing that his question had aroused wariness and unease in the gangly nun, he faced one of the cracked stained glass windows that lined the fourth floor hallway of the mental asylum and trained his piercing gaze in the direction of the towering steel structure that was being erected in the distance.

As if his outraged query were a portent for disaster, his blue gray eyes widened in horror as one of two large vertical support towers began to keel over, drawing shouts of alarm from the laborers that were audible even from afar. Thankfully, one of the crane operators had the presence of mind to act swiftly, propping up the toppling tower with a just as massive lateral support beam. This was followed by the low, ominous groaning of metal against metal. Even the floor underneath their feet shook, eliciting an "Ooh! Mother of Mercy!" from the frightened nun, who crossed herself three times.

"Don't worry," he said firmly, and it was not hopeful reassurance. "It was my father who designed and personally oversaw the construction of the foundation for that thing. If the angle of placement of the lateral arm is correct, it will hold."

Sure enough, the quaking stopped, and there were happy whoops from the workers at the construction site.

Sor Matilda wiped the sweat from her brow in relief. In answer to his question, she said, "Your father – the late James Hiddleston – was a brilliant engineer, comparable to the great Monsieur Ferris himself. After the triumph of La Grande Roue at last year's Paris Exposition Universelle, the good folk of Crispian's End thought why not fulfill your father's grand dream, just in time for the coming Feast Day of our beloved patroness St. Catherine?"

A bitter smile formed on Tom's hard, stern lips. "Then they don't seem to remember that age old saying – 'Those who don't learn from past mistakes are doomed to repeat them.' It's only been fifteen years. I don't believe that anyone would be inclined to forget, much more forgive what had happened."

Indeed, as the nun had said, Hiddleston's Wheel – which everyone back then dubbed as the 'Wheel of Heaven' – would have surpassed even Paris' Grand Wheel, with its height of three hundred meters. However, it never became the grand attraction that its creator intended it to be. Instead, the Wheel of Heaven literally crashed into infamy, its horrendous collapse during its inauguration bringing about the deaths of hundreds of lives, including that of its builder.

Tom could barely control his shudder at the painful memories. He should have perished with his father that day; he should have been crushed under the tremendous weight of mangled metal. Hiddleston, however, sacrificed his life to save what was most precious to him. Up to now, in his mind's eye, Tom could still see his father's right arm, clad in its fine black tweed sleeve, extended to him. His hand was palm up, as if beckoning to his son to join him in a promise of hope that ended in despair. Rather than have the poor nine-year old boy face the wrath of a grieving townsfolk, a kindly uncle shipped him off to distant relatives living in America with the fortune his late father had amassed. There he stayed for fifteen long years, growing up to become an engineer of the same caliber as his sire...

That is, until he returned to his apartment in New York one afternoon to find two letters – one from the town mayor and the other from the Mental Asylum of St. Francis.

"I promise you, my son. On the Feast of St. Catherine, you will see angels. If you'll only just believe in him..."

Tom whirled at that whisper in his ear, startling the nun with the suddenness of his movement. "Did you say something?" he demanded.

Sor Matilda shook her head, nearly causing her veil to fall askew. "I didn't speak, sir. It must've been a brisk wind blowing through the tree branches outside."

Tom rubbed his nape to flatten his curly blond hair that had stood on end. "Yes, you're right," he was dismayed to hear the tremor in his voice. "It's probably just the wind."

 When he had managed to get his nerves under some measure of control, he straightened up and looked straight into the nun's eyes. "Good Sister, perhaps you could tell me what matter of urgency it is that you have asked me to return home after all these years? I don't think it's coincidental that even the Mayor had written to me with the same entreaty. If it's about the reconstruction of my father's Wheel, I don't want to have any part in it."

At Tom's pointed query, Sor Matilda let out a pinched squeal of fright and took one, two involuntary steps away from him, as though she were expecting the young engineer to devour her right on the spot. While onboard the steamer to England, he could not shake away the nagging suspicion that his unplanned homecoming had something to do with his late father. But seeing the nun's exaggerated reaction to his question, he realized that it was about something else entirely.

Flustered by the menacing glare that the engineer was giving her, Sor Matilda lapsed into a nervous stutter. "S-s-sir...N-n...No one...NONE...blamed you...o-o-or....your father...f-f-f-for what happened."

Tom's dark gold eyebrows formed sharp arches. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Rather than reply, the nun waved her hand in the direction of the door at the far end of the hallway.

Irritation and impatience would have prompted Tom to march towards that door and kick it open. However, his approaching steps were apprehensive and unsure. As he drew closer and closer towards that worn, scuffed door, his heart pounded to a deafening crescendo. Something was telling him that he knew what was behind that door.

No, not 'what.' Who...

Stopping at the doorway, he laid his hand on the latch, only to find it locked. To his greater puzzlement, he saw that below it was a rusty padlock. Why the need for a double lock?

"Open this damned door!"

Sor Matilda hastened to comply, pulling out a ring of keys. Although her hands were shaking from fright, she somehow managed to insert the keys into their respective locks. As the nun yanked the padlock free from its hook, Tom pushed his way past her and entered the room.

It was a small cell with the barest of essentials. A cot with a ratty mattress stood beside one wall. The only other piece of furniture was a battered chair – a crutch propped up beside it – in which sat the room's sole occupant. The patient in question was gazing out of the lone small barred window above his head. With his head tilted back, his long wavy black hair tumbled down to his shoulders.

This was not a room for a mental patient, Tom concluded, remembering the double locks. This was a prison.

Only then sensing that he had guests, the patient slowly turned his head, revealing a handsome, boyish face which would have been the exact mirror of the engineer's except that it was fuller and his jaw somewhat squarish. Those jade green eyes grew rounder and rounder as they focused on the startled engineer.

At the sight of those green eyes, terrible images and sounds instantly flooded into Tom's mind...

A glorious soprano that was supposed to soar to Heaven's heights, but instead reached into the depths of Hell...

Horrendous sounds of bending, tearing metal...

The screaming of terrified men, women and children that was being drowned out by inhuman roaring and sounds of flapping leather wings...

The sight of long, sharp fangs that was more terrible than the looming shadow of the Wheel of Heaven, which was about to crush his fragile body under its tremendous weight...

Tom let out a shocked gasp as he was suddenly enfolded in a tight embrace. For a moment, he was disoriented, not knowing where he was. As he blinked several times to clear away the frightening visions, it was only then that he discovered that he was sitting on the floor and that tears were streaming down his cheeks.

What brought him back to the here and now were graceful, tender fingers that wiped away the tears from his face. Misted green eyes were looking at him with love and concern.

For someone who had held the pain of a devastating loss inside his heart for fifteen long lonely years, these were the last two emotions he needed...especially from the man whom he blamed for his father's death.

"Loki..." With a snarl, Tom reached out and seized the other man by the shoulders. Enraged, he shook the patient like a rag doll, causing his ebony locks to spike in all directions.

"What are you doing here, Loki? Why are you still alive, damn it?" Tom demanded in fury. "You're supposed to be dead!"

But no words came out of Loki's lips. Not a single sound.

Crying out in anguish, Tom shoved him back, so that Loki painfully hit the wall, his out-flung arm causing the chair to topple to the floor and his crutch to fall with a clatter at his feet. Using the wall for leverage, Loki eased himself up to a sitting position, dragging along his limp right leg. With tears trickling from his eyes, he lifted a beseeching hand to the angry engineer, only to pull it back – his trembling fingers closing instead over the black velvet band that was tied around his neck – and lower his head. His whole body shook at the force of his weeping.

Furious, Tom turned to the nun, who was standing at the far corner of the bed with a stricken expression on her face and fumbling with her rosary beads.

"What's the meaning of this? Why wasn't I told..."

"The Mayor said that if we told you," Sor Matilda stammered, "you wouldn't come and..."

"You're damned right I wouldn't!" Tom yelled back, causing Loki to flinch at the sheer hatred in his voice. "I don't have the patience for your subterfuge or your cryptic remarks! I demand to know right now what the hell it is you want from me!"

There was an uncomfortable pause. Taking a deep breath, the nun let the truth spill forth from her mouth.

"The good people of this town... They have...a request. They wish...no, they demand...that before the inauguration of the Wheel of Heaven on the Feast of St. Catherine...you must bring your brother with you back to America."

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 2

Tom would never forget that Christmas Eve when he was just five years old. It has been close to a year since his mother passed away after a lingering illness – much too soon for a cheerful, kindhearted little boy living with an eccentric father. Although acknowledged by all to be a genius in Engineering, James Hiddleston was notorious for his sudden flights of fancy and impulsive decision-making that has confounded his fellow engineers and baffled unwary laborers who were unaccustomed to his mood swings. It was because of his father's eccentricities that little Tom took it upon himself to assume the responsibilities of their modest household.

It was through a moment of impulsivity that James decided to pick up the scraggly waif he found begging under the guttering light of a lamp post. Tom vividly remembered how his father swept back his velvet cloak with sheer bravado to unveil his shivering, snot-nosed find, who was just about the same age as his son. The first things that struck him were those big green eyes that shone like lights through the dirt and grime that covered the child's entire face.

"Tom..." his father declared with a broad smile that even his bushy mustache could not conceal, "...Allow me to introduce to you your new brother."

Seeing that James's introduction was woefully incomplete, his reply to this had been to cock one eyebrow up and bombard his father with questions. "My new brother, you say? Where did you find him? Did you even bother to ask if he has parents? I hope you didn't whisk him right off the street!"

James stared at his son in grievous affront.  "How dare you make such an accusation to your father! Do I look like a kidnapper to you?"

Tom exhaled in mixed surrender and exasperation. He knew it was useless to argue with his father when he had made up his mind about something. He could only pray silently that James had not broken the law.

"If he's to be my brother, then what's his name?"

The expression on his father's face was that of a man who had been hit on the head with a board. Helpless, he glanced down at his precious find, who stared back at him just as blankly.

Shrugging, he just gave each child a pat on the head as if they were pesky puppies, and told his only son, "I'm sure we can think of something."

The next half hour or so found poor Tom inside the bathroom, giving his new sibling a sponge bath. To his credit, the boy sat quietly on a stool, following Tom's curt orders to turn this way and that, and to blow his nose into a fine linen handkerchief – a disgustingly frilly thing that his aunt had given him which he promptly tossed outside the window. Busy as he was scouring away soot, lint and grime, Tom did not notice the tender gaze that the boy was bestowing upon him.

It was while he was soaping a chubby arm that the boy began to sing. Tom stiffened, recognizing the Scottish lullaby that his mother had always sung to him. As he continued with his labors, that wonderful soprano held his heart as if it were a fragile piece of glass and eased his pain and loneliness with every lilting note.

When the song came to a close, Tom discovered that his task was done. Through awe-struck blue eyes, he found himself gaping at a delightful cherub with a face exactly like his own, crowned with a glossy ebony mane that tumbled in rampant waves upon his shoulders, misty emerald eyes that seemed to peer into his soul, and moist lips that were aching to be kissed. The child reached out to him then, brushing away the tears on his cheeks with his thumbs.

"Your Mama...you're making her very sad," the little boy spoke for the first time, and his voice was as rich and melodious in speech as it was in song. There was a timid, reassuring smile on his face. "Don't cry anymore. She'll always be watching over you."

"How...how could you know?" Tom stammered in bewilderment.

"She told me," was the child's simple reply. "And...she asked me to give you this."

Tom's next words were stuck in his throat as the boy flung his arms around his neck and gave him a loving hug. With a sigh, Tom closed his eyes and he sensed that it was indeed his mother who was holding him. For the first time in months, his heart was at peace.

The embrace ended too soon. As the boy released him, he felt the brush of soft lips upon his cheek. A deep blush coloring his face, Tom pressed a hand to his cheek as he gaped at the child in surprise.

The boy was blushing too as he squeaked "That was from me" and promptly popped a thumb inside his mouth. To further hide his discomfiture, he threw the wet towel in Tom's face, eliciting a menacing growl. That growl only caused to boy to burst into delightful laughter.

For what seemed like ages, a shy smile curled up Tom's lips, something he had not done since his mother died.

Ruffling the boy's black hair, he remarked, "You know? We look so much alike, we could be twins."

At this, the boy's cheeks turned an even darker red and he giggled.

 It was then that Tom saw his father standing at the open doorway with his elbow propped on the doorframe and his hand over his forehead. There were tears misting his eyes.

"It seems I have found the perfect name for our little mischief-maker," he announced as he approached the two children. Patting the boy's unruly black locks, James said with finality, "From now on, your name shall be 'Loki.' Like the God of Mischief in the Norse myths. You shall be my son Tom's new brother."

Tom never admitted it to anyone – not to his father or even to himself – that ever since that day, he never considered Loki as a brother. Only his heart knew that he had fallen deeply in love with this mysterious boy who hears voices that nobody else could. Although the children of the town thought Loki strange and avoided him like the plague, Tom became accustomed to his adopted sibling's peculiarities and playful tricks, which instead of frightening him, made him feel safe, protected, and loved.

With the exception of that first incident, he would later on dismiss Loki's exuberant ramblings of voices telling him what to do and warning them about things that would happen as merely the products of his overactive imagination. But not his father. James Hiddleston believed every word the boy said.

So it was on that bright summer morn when they were both eight years old that Loki told his father that God wanted him to build a Ferris wheel, the likes of which no one has ever dreamed to create.

"It has to be HUGE!" Loki waved his arms in wide arches. "So that there will be lots of cabs for the angels to ride in. It also has to have a stage built into it, so that I could sing to the angels as they play on the Ferris wheel."

It was an outrageous idea that appealed to his father's whimsical, but brilliant mind. In the weeks that followed, James made the precise calculations and drew the designs for what would be the biggest Ferris wheel the world had ever seen – a gigantic structure with a height of three hundred meters and one hundred fifty gondolas, which would seat four passengers each. In the months after that, he personally supervised the construction and assembly of each part.

During the molding of the wheel's vertical towers, James showed his two excited sons the circular gap that would function as the stage. Since the stage was situated at the very fulcrum, a special pivot mechanism and gears would allow the lighted wheel to turn around this gap, so that it would also serve as a giant halo for the performer who will be singing on stage.

Lifting a laughing Loki on his shoulders, James declared, "Once you get on that stage, sing to the heavens, my little Loki, and call down the angels to play on the Wheel of Heaven."

On that fateful day, however, Loki's unearthly voice had summoned something else, and Tom's father had lost his life.

The engineer was brought back to the present by a hand over his knee. Frowning, he turned to his unwanted companion sitting before him in the carriage. Loki was bending close to him, a questioning look in his green eyes.

"Don't touch me!" Tom snapped at him, slapping Loki's hand away in sheer revulsion.

Loki held his smarting fingers gingerly and cringed back into his seat, but still desperately giving the engineer pleading glances. With a snort, Tom chose to ignore him and looked out the window of the carriage instead.

His frown darkened into a scowl, realizing that the road to his father's manor led right past the open field where the Wheel of Heaven was being constructed. To his chagrin, Mayor Samuel Jackson himself – the man he intended to see at the town hall – was with his councilmen at the site, surveying the progress of the construction. He also readily recognized one of the councilmen – their old family physician, Dr. Branagh. Seeing his head poking out of the carriage window, the good doctor waved to him.

There was no helping it. Tapping on the side of the carriage, Tom ordered the driver to stop. He was about to open the door when he noticed that Loki was picking up his crutch and getting ready to go with him.

"You stay here," Tom glared at him. "I cannot vouch for your safety, and I'm not at all inclined to protect you." Without saying another word, he descended from the carriage, shutting the door behind him.

Mayor Jackson beamed, seeing the engineer approaching them. "Thomas Hiddleston! Let me have a look at you! My, you've grown into a fine young man!"

Indeed, Tom cut a striking figure – tall with a lean, graceful build, his once pale skin lightly tanned from spending most of his days in the middle of the sun, possessing a charming, handsome face complemented by a chiseled jaw, and expressive blue gray eyes, which would turn shimmering green or lustrous silver in his lighter moods. Now, however, his eyes were a troubled dark gray as he struggled to maintain civility.

Before the Mayor could trap him in a bear hug, Tom raised his hand. "Mr. Mayor, I did not come here for pleasantries..."

"Nonsense, nonsense!" Mayor Jackson said with a dismissing wave, as he took the younger man's arm. "You arrived just in time to help us solve a little dilemma that we're having with the mechanism for the Wheel's attachment to the pivot."

"Mayor...I don't want to be involved in this..."

However, when he was led towards the draftsman's table and he beheld the plans that were spread on top, for some strange reason, Tom found himself drawn towards those faded diagrams that had his father's writings. For a few minutes, he just stared intensely at his father's papers.

Before he realized he was doing so, he picked out several diagrams and tore them into pieces, eliciting shocked gasps from the councilmen. He then removed his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair, and loosened the cravat around his neck.

Picking up a quill, a ruler and a compass, he swiftly drew a different diagram and scribbled down several new calculations and measurements, astounding the workers who had gathered around him with his mental prowess.

Speaking more to himself than to his perplexed audience, Tom mused, "The stage will be built into the Wheel itself. The fulcrum will consist of layers of pipes in increasing diameters, enclosing the central hub which would be the stage. In America, I developed a snap bolt mechanism which would keep these pipes in place. Special rollers and stabilizing material will allow the Wheel to turn while keeping the stage in a fixed position."

The foreman – a man named Downey – was frowning at the diagram. "But sir, this would mean we'd have to bring the vertical towers down and make a bigger hole for all these pipes."

Tom shook his head and drew a rectangular notch from the top of the towers going down to one-third of its height. "We'll just cut this notch through both towers. Then all we would have to do is to lift the Wheel with a crane and slip it down into this notch. We next insert the retractable axle into the fulcrum. We shall also install a snap lock mechanism into the towers to keep the Wheel in place."

The engineer drew more diagrams and explained each one, as well as gave additional orders to reinforce the support towers, the Wheel's frame and its gondolas. Monumental renovations to be sure, but all of which could be done in the number of days that remained.

Tom was virtually unaware that he was fortifying the Wheel of Heaven against the catastrophe that befell its predecessor fifteen years ago.

Engrossed as he was with his work, at first, Tom did not hear the disturbed murmurs that suddenly arose among the councilmen and the workers. When someone actually shouted a curse, he spun around instantly to find Loki standing before the carriage, searching desperately for him. At last sighting the engineer, he took two limping steps forward, but stopped when a rock grazed his temple, causing him to stagger back.

"Demon!" the laborer who threw the rock yelled at him. "Who let you out of your prison?"

Another man was waving the bull-sign at him with his right hand while brandishing a wrench in his left. "Kill him before he brings great evil down upon us once more!"

At the goading of their companions, the men began to band together, picking up sticks and other makeshift weapons that they could find. With blood trickling from the cut at his temple, Loki stood helpless as the angry workers stormed towards him.

What stopped their advance was Tom's formidable figure. Putting himself between the mob and his frightened adopted brother, he carefully pulled up the sleeves of his silk shirt, spreading his long legs apart, prepared for fisticuffs. His blue eyes were as sharp as daggers as he looked at each man before focusing on the Mayor.

"What kind of homecoming is this, Mayor?" Tom exclaimed with heavy sarcasm in his voice. "You have me return to France in order to relieve your town of a bothersome burden. And yet, now, you would dare to inflict violence upon this unwanted...ward...in my presence. Is this your way of showing respect to a former townsman?"

Because his back was turned to Loki, the engineer did not see the flare of hurt that crossed his adopted brother's face at being called a 'burden.'

"I am so sorry for this, Thomas," Mayor Jackson apologized profusely, gesturing to his councilmen to placate the mob. "I do agree that this behavior is uncalled for. But surely you understand the sentiments of the townspeople, considering what your brother had done."

"Oh, I do understand your sentiments because I share them. However, since you have practically forced me to take him under my care, I find it intolerable that your people would dare to move against him right before my eyes. If you wanted to execute him, you should've done it years ago, so that you wouldn't have to go to these lengths now to trick me to return here in order to impose this baggage upon me."

"Again, on behalf of the town, I beg your forgiveness."

"As much as I detest your trickery, I have no choice. I am honor bound to fulfill this request that you have asked of me." As Tom expected, the Mayor's face brightened at that statement. "Unfortunately, I just came from the harbormaster and he informed me that the next steamer will not arrive until after twenty days, and I believe that would be the day after St. Catherine's Feast Day."

At once, the Mayor's face sagged in dismay.

Grinning devilishly at that crestfallen expression, Tom continued, "But don't worry. I'll make sure to keep him out of your way. There won't be a repeat of what happened fifteen years ago, this I swear. In turn, you must promise me that no one shall disturb us or actually dare harm us. I'm not the kind, happy child you used to know, Mayor. Push me and I shove back. You have already tried my patience with your duplicitous schemes. I suggest you do not test me any further."

Mayor Jackson nodded his head again and again like a demented woodpecker. "Yes, yes! You have my word that everyone shall leave you in peace." Smiling hopefully, he asked timidly, "Uh...about the Wheel..."

Tom exhaled in exasperation. "Very well. I will see to its completion, if only to fulfill my father's final dream." He raised his hand, palm up. "Now, before my uncle passed away, he informed me that he had entrusted the care of my father's manor to you. The keys, if you please."

"Oh! Yes, I do have the keys to the mansion right here!" The Mayor produced a set of keys from inside his coat pocket and handed it to him. Wiping away the nervous sweat from his brow, he added, "Thank you, Thomas, for your understanding. Now, if you have need of anything during your stay, we would be very happy to provide..."

"I am quite capable of purchasing the supplies we would need on my own," the engineer said brusquely. "What I want is privacy during my stay here and an absolute sense of security, something I'm sure I will not have if I hire a man or a woman to take care of our needs."

"Don't you trust your own people?" the Mayor asked in obvious offense.

"After this display of town solidarity?" Tom pouted in the direction of the dispersing laborers. "I think not!"

Unperturbed by the furious looks that were being thrown at him, Tom went back to the draftsman's table and retrieved his coat, simply slinging it over his arm. As he strode towards the waiting carriage, he took Loki's arm in an iron grip and all but dragged him inside, at the same time ordering the driver to go.

During the ride to Hiddleston Manor, there was only uncomfortable silence between the two men. Tom remained pensive, staring at the passing scenery outside without saying a word. But his displeasure was clearly mirrored on his handsome face.

Loki was aching to touch the brother he had not seen in fifteen years. He wanted so much to embrace him and to soothe away his pain. But he dared not move a muscle. Instead, he pressed a wrinkled handkerchief to the cut on his temple and lowered his head. With the cover his long hair accorded to his face, Loki wept in silence.

All throughout his exchange with the Mayor, not once had Tom mentioned the name of the country that was his home. Loki knew that the engineer had no intention of bringing him to America.

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 3

"Hmmph! So this is what they call 'taking care' of the place."

Technically speaking, the home of the Hiddlestons was not qualified to be called a 'mansion' – it being a rather modest two-storey country manor of brick and granite in comparison to its more opulent counterparts in town. Truth be told, Tom's father could have built a better home, even an actual manse suited to his reputation and prestige as a master builder. But, there was something about the old house that appealed to James, which he had confessed to his then six-year old children during one cold autumn night.

Both Tom and Loki had felt chills run up their spines when their father whispered spookily in their ears, "I bought this place because I heard it was haunted."

Tom, of course, did not believe this baloney. Ever the more gullible one, Loki ended up suffering from an episode of enuresis. It was a furious Tom – then assigned to laundry detail – who obligated his poor father to stay home in order to wash the soiled bed sheets. With time, however, as he got over his initial fright, Loki saw in the decrepit old home the perfect ambience for truly elaborate and horrifying pranks. Using carefully crafted demon masks and musty bedsheets, he nearly drove Tom to tears of error. He promptly put a stop to it when he saw how distressed his adoptive brother had become.

Looking at Hiddleston Manor now after fifteen years, it certainly did live up to their father's expectations. His mother's flower garden was now overgrown with weeds and thick vines, which – to Tom – resembled gnarled dark brown tentacles that seemed to be reaching out to grab him. Sure enough, there was a startled gasp, and he saw Loki trying in vain to kick his limp right leg free from a vine that had coiled around his ankle.

The engineer frowned as he stared at that vine. Was it just his imagination or did he actually see it tighten around Loki's ankle?

Tom carefully stepped through the vines that had overrun the small path leading to the manor's front steps. Getting down on one knee at his adopted brother's feet, he tore the vine off his leg.

From his position, Tom got a better view of the house. There were visible cracks on the walls, with chipping in the corners. But what had caught the engineer's eyes were the gargoyles. The six stone statues sitting in vigilance on the roof were covered with thick moss, so that they appeared even more hideous – perhaps even alive – with the way the moss rippled like skin with every gust of wind.

The engineer trained his steel gray gaze at the gargoyles on the roof and similar statues, which sat like hulking gnomes in his mother's garden.

"I don't remember our having this many grotesques in this place," Tom mused aloud.

To this observation, Loki shook his head briskly, his body trembling at the sight of so many demonic statues.

Someone cleared his throat nervously. Tom had forgotten about the carriage driver.

Opening the front door so that the jittery man could deposit his bags inside, the engineer was at the very least relieved to find that, compared to outside, the interior of the house was tended to, possibly for his arrival. Although the furnishings remained covered with thick sheets, the place had been thoroughly dusted and swept clean. A quick inspection of the kitchen revealed that everything was in working order. Returning to the living room, Tom saw that the driver had already departed, and Loki had lain his lone pack on the floor and was about to remove the cover from an armchair.

That motion of meek servitude irritated Tom.

"That won't be necessary," he said sharply. "I have no intention of staying here long. Mother's parlor and our two bedrooms upstairs would be sufficient for our needs."

Loki blinked at him for a moment and then slowly nodded, replacing the sheet on the armrest with great care.

Breathing in deeply, Tom gave voice to the matter that had been bothering him ever since his unexpected reunion with his adopted brother.

"I've always known you to be quite a chatterbox, Loki. It's not like you to be so quiet," he remarked pointedly. "Have those unseen entities stopped speaking to you during your convalescence in the asylum? Or have the physicians made you come to your senses and purged you of the lies and lunacies that had infected your mind back then?"

Loki's expressive face could not hide his hurt at those thoughtless queries. In reply, he simply cupped his band-covered throat and turned his back to the engineer before he could see the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

At the glimpse of the pain on that handsome face, Tom felt a twinge of guilt. However, the anger and hatred that simmered inside his heart would not allow him to ask forgiveness. Still, a sense of kinship with the other man prompted him to approach.

Loki flinched, seeing the shadow of a lifting hand out of the corner of his eye. Instead of the anticipated blow, Tom placed his left hand on his shoulder, the right going up and circling forward to feel his forehead. Loki's breath was caught in his throat at this surprising gesture of concern.

"You seem to be running a slight fever," Tom concluded, his voice low and husky. "I've forgotten how sickly you were as a child. Go upstairs and rest. I'll fix us a quick supper. A cup or two of lemon tea will do wonders for your throat."

Loki turned around to face him then, raising his hand in a gesture of offering assistance. To this, however, Tom shook his head. Carefully, he folded his coat and placed it on top of a side table.

"I can manage," he said dismissingly. "I've been living alone, without any servants in New York. I've never relied on anyone, and I'm not about to do so now."

Tom found that he could not bear to see the pain reflected in Loki's lovely green eyes at his curt rejection. Taking the basket with the few ingredients he had purchased from a roadside seller they had encountered along the way, he headed straight for the kitchen. However, he found himself stopping at the foyer to deliver one last cruel word.

"Loki, I won't lie to you. I never expected to be reunited with you. Although I still grieve for Father up to now, I've long reconciled myself with the belief that you're dead and buried." His hands closed into tight fists. "There was a time when I cared for you dearly, but after what happened, I couldn't help but feel that you had betrayed the trust my father and I had in you. I won't bring you to America with me. I'll...I'll take you to another town far away from here. Some place where no one will know you. Loki, I...I can't find it in my heart to forgive you."

At these words, Tom entered the kitchen, not once looking back at his adopted sibling. As he was searching for a knife, the emotions he had been struggling to hold just burst forth. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he fell to his knees as his body was racked by sobs. In his anguish, he did not notice Loki standing at the doorway, his whole form mirroring profound sorrow.

Night had already fallen when Tom emerged from the kitchen with a tray of food for the both of them. Going up to his bedroom first, he was surprised to find a good week's worth of clothes unpacked and hanging inside his closet. His bags sat in a corner of the room. A nightshirt was lying on top of the bed. A small fire was crackling in the fireplace.

Placing his share of the meal on top of his desk, he carried the tray to Loki's bedroom.

Loki was curled up on the bed. As he laid out the food on the bedside table, Tom's blue eyes fell upon the old photograph that Loki was hugging tightly. It was a picture of the two of them during happier times. His laughing father stood between them with his brawny arms draped over their shoulders. Resentment surged inside his heart that Loki should have in his possession such a precious memento. He took a step towards the bed to reclaim it. Possibly sensing his intent, Loki pressed the photograph to his chest, as tears fell from the corners of his eyes.

Tom could not bring himself to take away his adopted brother's keepsake. With a resigned sigh, he quietly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 4

The days passed with the two men maintaining a façade of civility between them. Although the matter was never discussed, Loki made no overtures to accompany Tom on his trips to the construction site, something which – given the animosity the townspeople had towards his sibling – suited the engineer just fine. It was difficult enough working with hostile laborers who were only kept in check by the half-hearted cajoling of the town council. Getting them to cooperate and actually comply with his seemingly bizarre calculations and sweeping renovations to the Wheel was a trial for his patience and his nerves. But gut instinct was telling him that these changes had to be made.

Every evening, Tom would return home completely worn out from the day's labors with fresh supplies for the next day. To his unspoken gratitude, Loki would have a hot meal and a bath ready for him. Respecting his wish for distance, Loki would eat in his bedroom, leaving the engineer to dine alone in the parlor.

Tom should have been grateful that Loki was respecting his need for solitude, but whenever the other man would leave him alone, the air inside the parlor would grow chilly, oppressive, suffocating. Holding his shivering body, he would feel eyes upon him, caressing his form with utter lasciviousness, so that there was no mistaking its evil intent. At one point, it became so unbearable that he stopped eating altogether and ran straight into the dubious shelter of his bedroom, where he eventually fell into troubled sleep.

Pride and resentment, however, prevented him from mentioning his fears to Loki. More so, he would not admit that the only times that he felt truly safe was when he was in Loki's company.

By the fifth day, strange incidents began to occur which Tom could no longer ignore. For one, the workers seemed to have become accident-prone. One man fell and broke his ankle in a spot devoid of holes or clutter. The man insisted that he had not fallen; someone had tripped him. A drill bit broke and nearly struck the head of the worker using it. While personally overseeing the soldering of the gaping notch in the two support towers where the Wheel was going to be lowered into, Tom glimpsed a dark shadow zipping towards a welder named Renner, with the obvious intention of pushing him off the narrow platform. Although the engineer managed to leap onto the platform and place himself between the wraith and the man, thus saving his life, he did not escape the attack unscathed.

Loki had gasped in horror at the four angry red slashes on his left leg when he returned home that evening, but Tom dismissed his brother's worries by explaining that he had scratched his leg on the prongs of a pitchfork and that it would be fine. A flimsy reassurance, he knew, and the engineer was expecting the other man to make angry gestures at his clumsiness. Instead, Loki looked out the window, casting his furious green gaze upon a grotesque standing near the elm tree. Even in the dim light of the waning moon, Tom could see the bloodstains on the stone monster's claws.

That midnight, Tom was tossing and turning restlessly in his bed, his dreams racked by terrifying images of shadows with sharp claws. He awoke with a feeble cry, his whole body – including his nightshirt – drenched with sweat. A cold wind blew through the open windows, causing him to shiver and his wounded leg to ache. Fear of catching pneumonia, however, made him fight the urge to yank the covers over his head and go back to sleep. Grumbling in irritation, he stood up and padded over to the windows.

Just as he was about to jerk them close, there was a low chuckle behind him. Whirling in surprise, Tom saw a dark figure seated on the armchair. Blinking several times to adjust his vision to the dark, the figure seemed to solidify before his eyes, resolving itself into the alluring form of his adopted sibling.

Like him, Loki was dressed in a long nightshirt. The loose garment had dipped low, revealing a graceful shoulder and the slope of a pale chest. His left leg was draped over an armrest with the right stretched down to the floor. With the way the hem of his shirt was bunched up past mid-thigh, the engineer could clearly make out the other man's arousal. Those thin, pink lips stretched sideways in a leer, as he laughed.

"Ah, Thomas! Do you know what a truly luscious sight you make, standing behind the window in that flimsy sleeping gown with the moon casting its glow upon you? You remind me so much of beautiful Endymion."

Tom moved backwards until his bottom hit the window sill. He crossed his arms over his body to shield his nakedness that was all too revealed under his nightshirt.

"I see you have recovered your voice, Loki," he replied, keeping his own voice steady and strong, although his heart pounded like a hammer. "And what brings you into my chamber at this ungodly hour of the night? I don't remember giving you permission to enter here freely."

"But this is my home too and I do what I want." A pout formed on his lips. "You disappoint me, Thomas." He let the sleeve of his nightshirt slip lower, so that he could tweak and squeeze a taut nipple. With his left hand, he clutched his aching groin. "I thought you'd want to see me like this."

Loki stood up, the sudden motion causing the engineer to jerk back. "Now, now! Don't be afraid!" he said in mock reassurance. "I did not come here to hurt you..." Another low laugh. "Well...not yet anyway. Unless...you choose to reject my appeal."

"And what appeal is that? Let me hear it."

Loki became grim at that demand. Tom was not sure if it was a trick of light and shadow, but he thought he saw Loki's eyes glow a deep smoldering red.

"The Wheel of Heaven..." Loki answered without preamble. "You must cease its construction this instant."

"Easier said than done. We are close to completion after all," Tom remarked smugly. "In any case, why order us to stop now? Wouldn't it better serve your purpose to just summon forth your minions again on the feast day and order them to destroy the Wheel and kill innocent lives along with it like you did fifteen years ago? Or..." He measured his words carefully, his tone taunting, mocking. "...Does this amusement ride pose an ominous threat to you now that I'm the one building it? I bet you already have an inkling that you would not be able to use this particular Wheel as your instrument for death and destruction." Tom's jaw hardened in determination. "No one will die from my Wheel of Heaven!"

Tom barely had time to blink when Loki crossed the distance between them in a flash, and pinned him against the window frame with just one hand circling his throat.

"Before you even think about the lives of the pathetic fools in this town, you should consider the things I would do to you if you choose to defy me!" Loki hissed furiously in his face. Grinning wickedly, he reached down and slowly began to pull up the engineer's nightshirt.

"What do you think you're doing? STOP!" Tom struggled to break free, but the fingers dug deep into his throat, depriving him of much needed air.

Helpless, all he could do was stand on tiptoe, as his adopted brother took liberties upon his trembling body. Tom gritted his teeth as tormenting fingers fondled his chest and tweaked and twisted a nipple painfully. That cold hand slid down to his pelvis, fingers teasing the dark curls at his groin, before enclosing his limp member, stroking it with furious urgency. Seeing that no response could be drawn from it, Loki reached even lower, his finger finding the rosebud opening between Tom's legs. The threat of invasion caused the engineer to struggle anew, even if his desperate movements were only hastening his strangulation.

Suddenly, Tom found himself released, and he slipped to the floor, coughing and gasping for air at the other man's feet.

"Stop the construction of the Wheel of Heaven, Thomas Hiddleston," Loki ordered him in a low, menacing tone, "if you value your life and the lives of the people of this town."

Anger gave the engineer enough courage for one last act of defiance. "And what if I won't? I'm not afraid of you or death. You wouldn't be making these obscene threats if you're not aware of the fact that it won't be easy to bring the Wheel crashing down this time. I'm not the engineer that Father was; I'm better than him! In fulfillment of his dream, the Wheel of Heaven shall rise – this I swear to you!"

"Not afraid of death, are you? Don't you know that there are things worse than death?" Despite his strong words, an involuntary shudder gripped Tom as a cold palm caressed his exposed bottom. Seeing the engineer wince from the sharp slap that he delivered to a buttock made Loki crow in glee. "Oh, it would be a great pleasure to break you, Thomas. A great pleasure indeed!"

A freezing wind blew into the room, sending the curtains fluttering. The engineer thought he heard the sound of flapping leather wings. When the wind subsided, he was all alone.

The instinct for self-preservation would have made Tom curl up into a tight ball on the floor. But rage surged from his heart at the blatant threat of violation to his person. He swiftly got to his feet, unmindful of the fact that the slashes on his leg had reopened and were bleeding once again. Though limping, he rushed outside his room and barged into the next bedchamber.

It did not surprise the engineer to find Loki standing on the window sill, as though he had just climbed in from the ledge. Having come from Tom's bedroom perhaps?

The engineer, however, did not see the startlement in Loki's eyes at his abrupt entry. Snarling, he crossed the room in a few long strides. He grabbed fistfuls of Loki's nightshirt and dragged him down from the window sill.

"You dare..." Tom growled, as he shook with uncontrolled rage, his grip tightening on Loki's evening garment. "You dare make those vile threats against me...."

Loki gaped back at the engineer in confusion. His lips parted to protest his innocence, but no sound would come out of his mouth.

"Why? Lost your voice all of a sudden?" Tom asked sarcastically. "You certainly had a lot to say only a few minutes ago. Well, if you think your filthy threats will work on me, you're wrong! Try touching me that way again and I swear I'll kill you!" Saying this, he shoved Loki to the floor.

Bewildered by these accusations, Loki quickly got up, only to have his eyes focus on the engineer's bleeding leg. He reached for the loose bandages, but Tom kicked his hand.

"I said don't touch me!" the engineer shouted, getting ready to lash out again.

But Loki – having endured abuse and cruelty for the past fifteen years – had reached the end of his rope. He could live with the distrust of the townspeople. To suffer the hatred of the man whom he loved more than as an adoptive brother was intolerable.

Loki grabbed Tom's foot as he kicked out. Grunting, he pushed upwards, causing the other man to lose his balance and fall butt first on the floor. Before the engineer could rise, Loki plopped down on his thighs, facing his feet. Angry tears started to fall from his eyes as he worked to secure the bandages on Tom's leg while enduring the other's curses and painful blows to his back. It was while he was carefully tightening the bandages that he felt the blows stop and hands clamped down on his shoulders. Then, a broad forehead was pressed to his nape, silky strands of golden brushing his shoulders, and hot tears trickled down his neck.

Tom's voice hitched brokenly as he sobbed in confusion, "I've been asking myself so many questions, trying to make sense of what happened fifteen years ago. Why my family, Loki, and why a Ferris wheel? Back then, you said that it was God who wished to see this wheel built. You told Father and me that we would see angels; that you would call them down from Heaven with your singing, so that they would play on the Wheel of Heaven. We believed you, Loki. Even when the townsfolk initially thought of it as one of Father's crazy ideas to please the desires of a highly imaginative child, we believed in you so much that we even rallied the people to join us in this endeavor. God's wish or not, the Wheel of Heaven became the dream of all. But in the end, it was all just trickery and lies to accomplish the Evil One's plans. How many souls had he reaped from that tragedy? Is my poor father one of those burning in Hell right now? Will I be condemned to share his fate because I have chosen to finish the task which had led to his death and ruin?"

Loki felt Tom lower his hands, and then strong arms wrapped around his waist. "I don't know what you are, Loki. Are you an angel or are you a devil? I don't even recognize the angry, bitter man that I had become. Frankly, I don't care anymore. All that matters to me now is to make pure that which was tainted by evil and death. So do what you will with me. Bring on your worst. If I'm to be condemned, we shall go into Hell together."

Hearing these words, Loki whirled to face the other man. Cupping the engineer's face in his hands, he edged his lips closer and closer to that tight, bitter mouth, wishing to give his reassurance and comfort – that contrary to what Tom believed, he too wished to see the Wheel of Heaven completed. Before he could kiss him, Tom drew away and stood up. The anguish Loki saw in those blue eyes ripped his heart to pieces.

"There was a time when I loved you so much that I would've swept you into my arms and showered you with kisses, and to hell with what everyone thought," Tom painfully confessed to him. "But now, I fear there is nothing left in my heart for you. Nothing but this deep, black void that could never be filled."

Loki could only watch helplessly as Tom limped despondently out of his chamber. In his frustration at being unable to convey his feelings to the man he loved, he drove his fist into the escritoire's leg. The sudden jostling caused a sheet of paper to flutter to the floor. It only took a second for Loki to recognize that paper for the gift that it was.

The sun had yet to rise, but Tom was already up, having been unable to sleep a wink. After preparing breakfast for him and Loki, he gathered his tools and instruments into his satchel for the day's work.

As he was about to leave, his eyes fell upon the note on the table. Opening it, Tom recognized his sibling's neat handwriting.

Loki's note was short and simple – "Finish the Wheel of Heaven. I will protect you."

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 5

In the days that followed, work on the Wheel progressed at a much faster pace. Perhaps because the laborers had witnessed how the engineer had risked his life to save one of their own, they were more cooperative. Not wanting to lose their trust, Tom took special precautions to see to the welfare of his men. However, he underestimated his infernal foe's capacity for evil.

A worker died on the afternoon of the eleventh day as they were fitting the Wheel to its retractable axle. It was old Christopher Evans, an Irish immigrant, one of a handful of people who – even on the first day – trusted his decisions and followed his changes to the letter. During one break, Old Evans had taken Tom aside to say something in confidence which had caught the engineer by surprise.

"I never stopped believing in your brother, Mr. Hiddleston," the man had confided in him. "I've heard Loki sing when he was but a wee bairn. To be gifted with a voice as beautiful as his and to be able to hear the voices of the spirits and the angels... No, he couldn't be evil. This is why I want to see the Wheel of Heaven completed. The Wheel itself will prove Loki's innocence."

Old Evans had lived long enough to see the Wheel attached to its axle...before one of the gondolas suddenly broke loose from its moorings and fell right on top of him.

Tom had been among the few to reach the old man first. It did not escape his notice that one of the arm bars that secured the gondola's attachment to the Wheel had been wrenched free from its huge bolts and twisted out of shape. As for Old Evans, his body had been completely crushed. Only his head had been spared, and Tom would never forget the smile of hope that was etched on the old man's face for all eternity.

What should have been another day of accomplishment for the engineer became a heavy pall that, with the passing hours, he found he could no longer bear. Even the heavens chose to mourn the old man's demise by pouring a torrent of cold rain upon them. Although the laborers wanted to continue with the work out of respect for their dead neighbor's wishes, Tom gave the order to call it a day. Besides, the heavy downpour would make each man vulnerable to any possible demonic attacks, and his conscience could not take another death on his hands.

Tom stayed at the site until the last man had departed. Still, he stood in the middle of the rain, staring up at the Wheel of Heaven. Amidst the jagged flashes of lightning, the Wheel looked like a gigantic crown of thorns. Even the cherry-shaped gondolas resembled hanging blood drops.

"What the hell are you?" he asked his creation. "Are you a blessing or a curse?"

The engineer heard unsteady, sloshing footsteps behind him, and he was surprised to find Loki, bearing an umbrella and an old raincoat. He did not wait for an invitation from his adoptive brother. Loki hobbled towards him, his crutch digging deep into the mud with every step. When he was face to face with Tom, he carefully draped the raincoat over his slender shoulders and handed him the umbrella.

"Old Evans is dead," Tom announced dully.

Loki lifted his head, revealing his bloodshot eyes. He nodded slowly. From his sibling's hesitant gestures, the engineer learned that the man's spirit had announced his own demise to Loki, prompting him to make the long trek from the manor to the construction site.

"So you can still hear the voices of spirits, is that it? And I thought it was you who ordered that my men be killed off one by one," the engineer said wearily.

Loki quickly shook his head, aghast that Tom would even suggest it.

His mind befuddled by grief, Tom stammered, "I don't think I'll be going home tonight. Someone has to keep watch here. Now, that the Wheel of Heaven is practically finished, it's much too vulnerable to attack and..."

The engineer's words were halted by fingertips to his lips. Loki shook his head again, and then approached the Wheel. As Tom watched, Loki laid his palm on a vertical tower, his lips moving in silent prayer. When he was done, he crossed himself and then kissed the tower itself. For a moment, the engineer thought he saw a green glow at the contact between lips and metal. The deed done, Loki picked up his brother's bag, which was sitting on top of a table and getting drenched in the rain. Then, he limped past the engineer and headed off in the direction of the manor.

Tom looked at his sibling in bewilderment. His kindness and thoughtfulness, his obvious concern for the Wheel of Heaven, the grief in his green eyes at the knowledge of Old Evans' death—This was not the Loki who had threatened him with violation. This was the Loki he had always known and loved as a child.

Had everything that happened that night been just a vivid nightmare? Oh, how he wished it were so!

Tom's blue eyes fell upon the satchel that Loki was carrying, and his heart was seized by guilt. His conscience berated him for purchasing the shiny pistol that he had seen in the window of the local gunsmith's shop, and which was now hidden deep among the papers and instruments inside his bag.

"Loki, wait!" Tom did not realize he was running until he found himself walking beside his sibling. Taking his bag, he said, "That's too heavy for you. Let me carry it." He even extended the umbrella to include Loki in its shelter.

Loki blinked at Tom, confused by his actions. However, he was not one to refuse a rare act of kindness from his adopted brother. As he trudged beside Tom, he pulled up the hood of his raincoat so that the other man would not see his happy smile and the blush that colored his cheeks.

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 6

Although nightmares possess the qualities of the bizarre and oftentimes the horrific, there is still a touch of reality to them which makes the dreamer believe that what he is experiencing is real. The nightmare that Tom was having that late stormy evening was no exception.

The engineer was standing before the Wheel of Heaven, but everything around him had been transformed into a blood red landscape that hurt his eyes and made them water, as though he were standing in the middle of a field of flames. People were running past him, their mouths open in round O's of terrified screaming, but no sounds were produced from their throats. Even the hulking demonic hordes that surrounded the Wheel like giant crimson bats were silent. No sounds of flapping leather wings nor the roaring from their gaping maws.

The only sounds he could hear were the agonized screams of twisting, tearing metal. Tom's heart was wrenched by the death cries of the Wheel of Heaven, which propelled him towards the handsome figure who was singing silently at the fulcrum, which was also its stage.

"Stop it!" Tom cried, as he rushed up the stairs to the stage. "You're killing her! You're killing ME!" But even words and sound had abandoned him.

When he reached the stage at last, the engineer grabbed his brother's hand, hoping against all hope that he could be persuaded to call off the demons that were destroying his beloved masterpiece. In desperation, he had even fallen to his knees, pressing his cheek to those cold fingers in supplication as tears streamed down his face.

Loki, however, would not be placated by entreaties alone.

Tom's shocked gasp was like a thin whistle in the air, as sharp claws shredded his shirt. Taking advantage of his surprise, Loki pushed him down to the floor and pinned him beneath his length. Seizing the engineer's wrists with a single iron grip, Loki jerked Tom's hands high above his head. With his free hand, he tore the engineer's trousers from his legs. Realizing what the other's intent was, Tom began twisting his body, struggling furiously to break free, only to let out a silent scream as sharp teeth sank into his left breast.

With the urge to fight having momentarily deserted his helpless prey, Loki pulled away. Through the haze of pain, Tom saw that his brother's mouth was stretched in a gaping, inhuman grin, baring rows of sharp teeth smeared with his blood. A forked tongue snaked out of that mouth to lick away the blood trickle from the corner of his lips. Feeling clawed hands forcing his legs apart, Tom shook his head in sheer terror, knowing what was about to happen next.

"No! Don't!" the engineer mouthed the words as he desperately tried to press his thighs together. "Please don't!"

But Loki pinched the tip of his chin and forced a frightened Tom to gaze into his smoldering red reptilian eyes.

"You've been a very bad boy, Thomas," Loki clucked in his face. "I did warn you what would happen if you disobeyed me. Now...take your punishment like a man."

Then, there was nothing but blinding agony which ripped through his lower body.

Tom woke up at that moment, gasping for air. It took a long while for him to get his bearings, and to realize with slowly growing horror that every nerve in his body was still crying out in pain. Gingerly, he sat up, wincing at the aches that flared up with the movement, to find himself facing his pitiful reflection in the dresser mirror. Tears began to fall from his blue eyes, seeing his obviously defiled state. His nightshirt had been ripped to shreds. There were fiery red scratches showing through the tears. Blood trickled from the deep bite marks around his swollen left nipple. But what horrified him the most was that his lower belly and thighs were completely covered with blood.

Seeing the evidence of his body's savage violation, Tom lost all capacity for rational thought. Jerking open the drawer of his bedside table, he grabbed his pistol and, ignoring his body's complaints at his furious movements, rushed to Loki's bedchamber.

It did not surprise the engineer to find the door locked. As he twisted the knob again and again, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of flapping wings within. Rage and the need for revenge gave him the strength to kick the door open with his bare foot. As he barged into the room, a whirlwind suddenly blew, sending curtains flying, so that, for several minutes, he was blinded by the onrush of air. The wind died down as quickly as it came, leaving in its wake a bruised and battered Loki, who was standing before the open windows with a poker in his hand.

In his fury, Loki's appearance did not register to Tom's mind – certainly not his equally torn sleeping garment nor the claw marks that covered his body. There was even an angry crimson slash on his left cheekbone. But upon beholding the engineer, it was Loki who was stricken with what were definitely horror and guilt. He took a cautious step towards the other man, a hand lifted to offer aid. Tom, however, raised his gun and pointed it straight at him.

"Don't move!" Tom warned him. "Take one more step and I swear I'll blow your head off!"

Loki shook his head. He even dropped the poker to the floor, raising both hands to show that he meant no harm.

The engineer, however, was distraught. "How could you do this to me? How could you defile me like this? All I did was to fulfill Father's vision of your dream, Loki. YOUR DREAM! I never believed your crap that it was God's wish! For me, it was enough that the Wheel of Heaven was your grand dream, and that I would help Father in building it because I wanted you to be happy. I would've sacrificed everything for you, because...that's how much I love you. But now, I don't know what to believe anymore." With tears streaming down his face, Tom cocked the pistol. "I told you that I would kill you if you dared touch me. It's all over for us now, Loki. What little love I still held in my heart for you is all gone now. I...I'm sorry, Loki. But this is goodbye."

Loki too began to weep, seeing the anguish he had caused the man he loved. With a resigned sigh, he lowered his hands to his sides and closed his eyes. He waited and waited for the bullet that would end his accursed life. But it never came.

Again and again, Tom tried to squeeze the trigger. With an agonized cry, he raised the gun above his head and fired at the ceiling. Throwing the pistol aside, he hurled himself at Loki, sending both of them crashing to the floor. His hands closed around Loki's band-covered neck. Although the urge to claw at the fingers that were choking the life out of him was strong, Loki kept his arms pressed flat and firm on the floor. Impeded by the band, the engineer tore it from his sibling's neck, only to gasp as the shocking secret that lay hidden beneath it was revealed.

Bisecting Loki's throat was a thin silver scar, which could only have been made by a surgeon's knife.

It was then that he remembered the very last time he had seen his adopted brother...

His father trying to get his two sons down from the stage as the Wheel of Heaven was being torn apart by rampaging demons...

A mighty shove, followed by the deafening crash of the Wheel's collapse...

Lying dazed on the ground as he stared at his dead father's outstretched hand...

Loki covering him with his frail body as they were being attacked by demons, even if he himself was bleeding profusely from a deep wound caused by a large bolt that had pierced both the flesh and bone of his right leg...

Loki lying on a pallet, three beds away from him, with two doctors – one of them Dr. Branagh – the Mayor and the town council gathered around him...

"Sew his lips shut!" one councilman hissed in anger.

"No," Dr. Branagh calmly countered, his face a stiff mask. "I have a better solution."

Finally, the flash of a knife and those cruel words...

"You will never use your voice for evil ever again."

With a shocked cry, the engineer released Loki and gaped down at him in mute horror at what he had almost done.

"Oh my God! Loki!" Tom was seized by remorse as he shook his head, trying in vain to dispel the evidence of his brother's mutilation and his innocence of the terrible deed he had just accused him of. "All this time...you really could not speak! You could never speak ever again! Loki, I..."

Loki reached out then and cupped Tom's face, halting his words with a deep kiss on his lips. At first, he could feel the other man resist, but Loki only increased the pressure, clinging tightly to the back of his head. When Tom broke away, both their lips were swollen and flushed, their breathing fast and heavy. For what seemed like forever, they just looked into each other's eyes, searching for the truth behind the maelstrom of painful, confusing emotions swirling inside their hearts. Both arrived at the answer at the same time. As their eyelids fluttered shut, Loki raised his arms just as Tom leaned into his embrace.

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 7

There was a violent desperation to their lovemaking that night. With the anger and frustration of fifteen years still simmering on the surface, they grappled like two warriors determined to triumph over the other. Sensing his need, at first, Loki acquiesced to Tom – wincing as fingernails raked his already torn skin and ravenous lips and teeth nipped and bit him in places that drew shivers of delight throughout his body – as he ran his fingers through the other man's blond mane.

But when teeth sank deeper into his nipple, Loki thought enough was enough, and he decided that it was his turn to devour and have his fill, despite the engineer's apologetic and delicate laving of his injured tit.

With a twist of his body, Loki switched positions with Tom, so that he was now straddling the other man. With infinite tenderness, Loki licked and suckled upon Tom's left breast, tasting the tang of blood from the bite wounds around the nipple. Weeping at the injury that had been inflicted upon his beloved, he nipped each wound close with his lips until blood stopped trickling from them. With his right hand, he played with the other nipple, which had risen tensely in anticipation of abuse. Feeling Tom's erection rubbing against his belly, Loki swooped down and captured the length inside his mouth. As he milked that silk rod with his throat, his hands slid down Tom's lower back to cup his buttocks. At once, the engineer stiffened, his bottom clenching convulsively. Sensing the other's fear at being violated yet again, Loki eased his palms away from that tense spot, but only for a moment. A nagging suspicion prompted him to do a thorough and careful examination of Tom's lower body in the guise of gentle caresses. Sure enough, his questing fingers found deep claw marks that would explain the copious blood that had caked his belly and thighs. However, Loki had to be certain that these slashes were indeed the only sources of the earlier bleeding.

With lips and tongue, Loki worked on Tom's member with oral dexterity, sending him to pleasurable heights he had never attained before. The engineer thus distracted, he moved his hands again towards the cleft in between the taut buttocks and poked a finger at the orifice hidden within, not at all surprised by the strong resistance he encountered. A harder jab, and his finger entered with difficulty. The muscles of his beloved's channel squeezed the length of his invading digit tightly, preventing further entry. As he tried to wriggle his finger free, the tip brushed against the sensitive gland.

Shocked by the stealth by which he had been invaded – as well as the intense erotic sensations that suffused his entire being – Tom spurted his seed inside his lover's mouth. In turn, Loki held on to the other man's waist as he imbibed every drop that gushed down his throat.

Although spent, Tom could not help but feel angry at being taken yet again. With a snarl, he yanked Loki up and forced him to kneel at the foot of the bed. Knowing what his lover was going to do next, Loki tore his ruined nightshirt completely free from his body and spread his legs wide apart. He bit down on his lower lip, his fists clenching the bed sheets, as Tom sheathed himself inside his body without any tender ministrations, which was what Loki wanted. It was his ardent desire to relish every inch of the raw passion and heat that was Tom to the very depths of his fevered flesh. Their bodies – including the bed beneath them – rocked with every pummeling, punishing thrust. There was pain, but it was a good hurt, a searing brand that marked him as belonging to the man whom he never stopped loving, despite the passage of time and the harshness of fate. Loki did not even need to utter any passionate sounds; Tom's rapturous cries were enough for both of them.

With his heart pounding like thunder in his ears, Loki did not hear Tom's scream of ecstasy as he climaxed, but he felt it as warm spurts deep within his belly. Tom practically collapsed on his back from weariness. Loki's aching erection twitched pitifully at its neglect. Seeing that no relief was forthcoming from his heart-weary lover, Loki stroked himself once, twice, and he too spilled his fluids on the polished mahogany floor. Gazing down at that glistening pool, he found himself praying fervently that Tom could belong to him just as he now belonged to the other man.

As soon as it crossed his mind, Loki was seized by shame. How could he dare to make such a prayer when he had failed miserably to protect the man he loved from the evil succubus that was plaguing his nights? The same man who had been battling the forces of the Dark One in order to fulfill his childhood dream, which he now was no longer certain was willed by God or by someone else in the heavenly realm.

Gently, Loki lifted a slumbering Tom into bed with him pulling the covers up to their chins. Sleep did not come at once to Loki, who simply watched the engineer in peaceful repose. Unable to resist, he carefully brushed away the golden strands from Tom's sweaty brow before letting his fingertips slide down his cheek to caress the tip of his chin. Leaning forward, he bestowed a loving kiss upon those soft lips.

There was one thing that Loki was sure of. From tomorrow and henceforth, things will be very different between them.

Sure enough, when Tom awoke the next day, it was to the sounds of smashing rock. Although still sluggish from sleep and their intense lovemaking, curiosity made him get out of bed and stumble towards the window to find Loki in his mother's garden below. With the use of a large sledgehammer, he was methodically destroying each grotesque – starting first with the statue's legs, then the folded wings and arms, before finally pulverizing the body and head until it was nothing more than bits of rock and white powder.

Gazing at the man below, the engineer was struck by the single-mindedness by which he labored and the utter hatred on his handsome face. Recalling Loki's disheveled appearance during those previous nights that he had barged into his room enraged, it dawned on him that his adopted sibling had been battling these same monsters, unaware that they were merely decoys while their leader took liberties upon their true prey.

Tom remembered what happened last night, and it shamed him deeply that not once had he asked forgiveness from the other man for not believing in his innocence. It shamed him even more when he discovered that – while he lay sleeping – Loki had cleansed his body of blood and tended to his wounds.

Donning a long robe, he padded out of the room on bare feet, hurried down the stairs, and went out the front door, heading for the garden. The grass was cool and wet with morning dew under his feet as he approached his adopted brother, who – having finished with his labors – was leaning against the propped up sledgehammer like a cane, panting for breath.

No, not his brother, the engineer quickly amended. His lover.

Sensing his presence, Loki turned around to face him, a hesitant smile going up his lips. Tom could see that Loki was apprehensive, expecting a negative response from him.

For once, Tom was at a loss for words. "Loki, I...I wanted to tell you..."

Loki, however, shook his head. Instead, he moved his lips. At first, the engineer stared blankly at him, not comprehending what he was trying to say. To this, Loki fashioned the words more slowly until he could see tears well up in Tom's eyes as he finally understood the five words he was saying.

"He did not take you."

With a cry of immense relief, Tom found himself stumbling into Loki's embrace.

"I have only to put the finishing touches on the Wheel of Heaven, Loki. Perform final checks on its safety," the engineer whispered in his lover's ear. "Please tell me that it's all over now."

Loki did not offer an answer at first, as he simply held Tom. But he could not lie to his beloved. Breaking the embrace, Loki sadly shook his head and trained his emerald eyes towards the roof.

Following his lover's gaze, Tom felt his heart sink in despair and growing dread.

Where once there had been six, now not a single gargoyle sat on the roof of Hiddleston Manor.

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 8

The intermittent rain of the past two days had settled into a light drizzle when Tom arrived at the construction site. Their emotions buoyed by the completion of the Wheel of Heaven, the townsfolk had begun putting up stands to sell their wares. At first, the engineer had the urge to send them all away until he had made final adjustments and security checks on the Wheel. But seeing the hesitant faces on the women – possibly a result of the scowl that darkened his features – Tom simply gave them a nod to continue what they were doing, and gathered his men to discuss something with them. After all, the Feast of St. Catherine was on the morrow, and they had to be ready for anything.

It was while he was personally overseeing the stringing up of banners and lights to the Wheel that Tom found the man he intended to visit later that day. Before he could lose sight of his quarry, the engineer leaped a good twenty feet down – drawing screams from onlookers – and grabbed one of the chains hanging from a narrow scaffold. As everyone clapped and cheered, he clambered down the Wheel, using its spokes like a ladder. As soon as his feet touched the ground, a hand gripped his shoulder.

"Breathtaking display of acrobatics, my boy! I swear, you scared a good thirty years out of my life with that stunt you pulled."

Tom beamed broadly, turning to face the speaker. "Dr. Branagh! You're just the man I've been wanting to see!"

Later that evening, the engineer was walking home with light, sprite steps, his heart elated. Everything was all set for the festivities the next day. A trial run showed the Wheel functioned better than he had hoped. To his shining blue eyes, it seemed as if the Wheel of Heaven was telling everyone that it would withstand anything – human or inhuman – that would dare to stop its triumphant launch.

But what made Tom truly happy was the information that he had learned from Dr. Branagh, news that he could not wait to tell Loki.

Giddy as he was with excitement and joy, he did not see the red figure that was swooping down upon him with great speed.

The only sound that was elicited from Tom's throat was a shocked gasp as he was seized by strong arms and lifted up into the evening sky. The high altitude made breathing difficult and, for a while, he was disoriented. All he could do was to cling for dear life lest his abductor should decide to drop him from such a great height. After a brief chilly flight, a heart-stopping freefall followed and, for a few dizzying seconds, he thought that he had indeed been dropped from the heavens to become a messy red splotch on the landscape. But as it turned out, his abductor had other plans for him.

There was the loud crash of a hard body impacting with breaking wood and glass. A flying shard even slashed his cheek. Tom just found himself being tossed unceremoniously on his bed. Getting a hold of his wits, he scrambled for his pistol, which he had hidden under his pillow. He was reaching under – a fingertip had already touched the base of the hand grip – when a clawed hand seized his wrist. Another hand dug painfully into his hair and jerked him up into a cruel embrace.

"No! Don't!" he cried, seeing those claws descend to his hips.

Tom struggled desperately but, held securely as he was, he could do nothing except watch as his shoes and socks were pulled off and his trousers were ripped to shreds and torn from his long legs, leaving him naked from the waist down. Somehow, he managed to get his right arm free and attempted to drive his fist into the face of the creature that was holding him. However, it was only a glancing blow. His hand was quickly seized, and his other wrist yanked down before him. Both were bound tightly together with his belt. With a mighty tug, his arms were brought up and back, his bound wrists hooking over a brawny neck.

The engineer burst into expletives as hot palms reached under his shirt and fondled his body – fingers plucking, twisting and squeezing his nipples just as the rod between his legs was stroked and pumped so hard that he believed his manhood would surely be torn from its root.

His tirade was stopped abruptly by a hand over his mouth. A voice hissed in his ear, "Shut up, boy, and listen."

Falling silent at once, it was only then that Tom heard the noises of a furious struggle coming from the room next door.

Loki!

"Yesss," the demon confirmed with fiendish glee. "Your sweet, innocent Loki is with my companions right now." He let out a wry chuckle. "Who'd ever thought I'd use those descriptive on the former God of Chaos?"

"Innocent, you say?" Tom gasped out, hearing the truth confirmed. "Then he never summoned you. He was never one of you!"

"No. In fact, we don't even know what he has become. But his visions were a cause for concern for our Master Mephisto, and the Wheel of Heaven that was built as a result of his visions. Rather than wait and see what would happen when he sang on that fateful day fifteen years ago, our Master commanded us to go forth from Hell's infernal pits to destroy the Wheel, its builder, and its visionary. We succeeded in two of our goals, but failed in the third. Still, it was enough that we had discredited him, that he was judged by all to be in league with Hell's hordes. We thought that he would die in that asylum. But the fates conspired against us and brought you back to this accursed town. And you have proven to be a more formidable adversary than James Hiddleston."

The engineer's eyes flew wide at this revelation.

"Oh, yes! We too paid numerous visits to your father, but he would not be deterred from his course of action – because he wanted his beloved children to see this magnificent ride built. As you had surmised from his plans, however, there were certain flaws in his design. Since he could not be moved by threats, it was but a simple matter for us to use these flaws to bring his dear creation crashing down."

A fingertip caressed the cut on his cheek, causing him to shudder. "My dear Thomas! You have been nothing but trouble since you arrived here. I did warn you what could happen if you persisted in having your own way. Too bad you didn't listen. Now, your beloved Loki will suffer for your misdeeds." A devilish chuckle. "And my companions have such ravenous appetites indeed."

Nothing could describe the agony that Tom felt at that moment. As he listened to the noises in the other room, he dreaded to imagine what was happening to Loki within. He had it in his power to save his lover. After all, there was still the demon's unspoken desire to see the Wheel of Heaven destroyed. But when he conjured up the image of the Wheel inside his mind, he was shamed by the aura of defiance that the structure radiated. The same defiance that had made his father stand up to demons, even at the cost of his own life.

He would not sacrifice his creation nor his lover.

His jaw hardening, Tom declared, "Haven't we discussed this before?  I was the one who defied you in the first place, so let your infernal punishment fall upon me then. And, there is one important thing that you have forgotten. Without his voice, Loki is no threat to you. In its present state, the Wheel is nothing more than a harmless amusement ride. For the Wheel to function as you feared it would, Loki's singing voice would be needed to activate it, and he doesn't have that anymore. Neither deserve Hell's wrath. If you must punish, then punish me."

The demon considered his words for a moment, before shouting in a guttural manner. Instantly, the noises in the next room died down. Before Tom could even breathe a sigh of relief, his bound arms were yanked up and over and he was shoved face down on the bed, but with his bare bottom lifted in the air. He could not stop the tears that began to fall from his eyes as his thighs were spread wide apart in preparation for the plundering that was to follow. He shivered as a forked tongue licked him from his lower back going up to his nape.

"Oh, Thomas!" The engineer stifled the urge to turn his head away as his lips were claimed in a hard, demanding kiss. "How I wish I could guarantee that my comrades will not rip you to pieces with their unbridled lust! But with me, I promise that I'll try my best to be very gentle with you." Tom's eyelids snapped shut as a hand went up his inner thigh, and something enormous began pushing through the crack of his buttocks. "After all, I consider it a great privilege that I shall be your first."

There was the deafening bang of the bedroom door bursting open, and the engineer was relieved of the oppressive weight on his back. As he rose to his haunches, he swiftly grabbed his pistol and aimed – only to find Loki exchanging blows with himself! The demon had perfectly assumed his lover's form – from the bruises and cuts on his body to his ripped clothing. Both even had the same spatter of demon blood that dripped from their cheeks to be absorbed by the black band tied around their necks.

"Loki? Loki!" Tom cried out desperately, swinging his gun back and forth between the two fighters.

To his horror, both turned to look at him with that same desperation in their big green eyes. He realized then that the demon would not make the mistake of uttering a word.

As he watched helplessly, the two men's hands closed around each other's throats, both determined to choke the life out of the other, although the engineer knew that it was the human who would surely die.

"Loki, for heaven's sake! Please give me a sign! ANYTHING!"

It could not have been a mere second. Perhaps it was just a fraction of a second. Because as the two combatants strangled each other, the bands on their necks moved downwards a bit. The engineer thought he saw the faint line of a silver scar on the throat of the fighter at his left.

"God help me!" was the simple prayer that Tom uttered as he fired, scoring a hit on the right fighter's left arm.

In the blink of an eye, the demon reverted back to its true form and roared in fury. Unfurling its great wings, it lunged at a frozen Tom. Acting swiftly, Loki picked up the saber he had dropped on the floor in his shock upon beholding his lover about to be raped by a creature from Hell. With one downward slash, he severed the demon's arm – the same arm that Tom had shot. Letting out a deafening roar of agony and rage, the demon retreated, flying outside the broken window. Blessed silence at last fell upon the manor. It was only when they were certain that they were truly alone that the engineer lowered the gun and Loki laid the saber on top of the table.

Tom was beside himself with tears, seeing the sorry state Loki was in, and he already feared the worst. "Loki? A...are you all right? I...heard the noises, but...but I couldn't do anything!"

Loki shook his head and made thrusting and slashing gestures, indicating that he had been fighting off his fiendish attackers when they suddenly turned tail and fled.

"Thank God!" Tom cried, his whole body relaxing with immense relief. "He...the demon...I told him that he could...do...whatever he wanted with me, as long as he called off his minions." While Loki removed the belt tied around his wrists, the engineer could feel his hysteria rising. His hands freed, he wiped away the tears from his eyes and laughed. "I never thought demons would honor their promises..."

A ringing slap to his face caused Tom to fall on the bed. Strong hands wrenched him onto his back, so that he could stare, dumbfounded, at a tear-filled but definitely enraged Loki. Twice, thrice, Loki shook him so hard that his teeth rattled. Tom did not need words to understand what his lover was frustratedly trying to convey.

"Why did you give yourself to him?"

Suddenly, Tom's lips were claimed in a hard, bruising kiss, a heated tongue forcing its way inside his mouth. Although surprised at first by Loki's abrupt display of angry ardor, fear of violation prompted Tom to struggle anew, especially when his shirt was torn from his body. Loki drew back, only to grab the engineer's hands and pin them on either side of his head.

"Loki, what are you doing?" Tom asked in growing alarm, as his lover draped his long legs over his shoulders and forced his thighs apart with his knees. At the same time, Loki freed his engorged member from the confines of his trousers.

It was a redundant question, the engineer knew. Stricken with anger and jealousy at the belief that his lover had given himself so easily to a demon, Loki intended to purge him of the taint with his own body.

Tom bit down on his lower lip, deathly afraid of what was about to happen next. But he needed to be punished, especially by this man whose innocence he did not believe and yet who continued to love him despite a decade's long separation. As something large and blunt pressed against his opening, the engineer braced himself.

However, Tom could not prepare himself for the devastating pain as Loki breached his orifice, shoving past the tight ring of muscle which tore at the forceful entry. Another hard thrust, and Tom could not take it anymore. He arched his neck back and screamed.

Although he was halfway inside his lover, Loki stopped instantly at that scream. Tom was panting for breath, his face flushed and eyes squeezed tightly shut. But he could see the glimmer of tears in those long lashes. To Loki's horror, blood was pooling on the bed sheets underneath the engineer's raised buttocks.

Loki was guilt-stricken at the sight of his lover's innocence slowly dripping down on the bed. He had always wanted to claim Tom for his own, but never in such a violent manner.

Not wanting to injure his lover any further, Loki pulled away carefully, only to feel desperate arms embrace him.

"It's all right." That hoarse reassurance ripped through Loki's heart. "Nothing happened, I swear. You don’t know how happy I am that it's you and not him. Thank God, it's really, truly you..."

Tom let out a feeble cry of despair when Loki eased himself out of his body. Wincing at the sharp pain in his behind, the engineer turned on his side and laid his hand on Loki's trembling back.

"Are you mad at me, Loki?" was Tom's fearful query. When he felt the skin beneath his fingertips tighten, he withdrew his hand and let it flop down on the mattress.

"I...I didn't know what else to do," he admitted, his voice tremulous with emotion. "The demon...he told me the whole truth...about how they threatened Father to stop building the Wheel of Heaven...They haven't given up. They still want to see the Wheel destroyed." A brief hesitation. "He told me...about you...and that you were totally innocent of everything. Then...he made me listen to the noises coming from your bedroom...and he told me what those demons were going to do to you. I thought to myself..." A choked sob, and he let it all spill out in a rush. "I made a big mistake, judging you the way I had. How could I have treated you so appallingly? I couldn't let them destroy the Wheel a second time! I couldn't let them hurt you! I...I mean, it's just...rape, isn't it? It's not even enough expiation for abandoning you and for all those terrible things I did to you and..."

Tom found himself pulled up and enfolded in a crushing embrace. With his cheek pressed against Loki's face, he could feel the warm moisture on his skin.

"Why do you weep for me, Loki?" he asked bitterly. "You know I don't deserve your pity."

Loki, however, shook his head vigorously. He pounded his chest thrice with his fist, and  then hugged the engineer once more. It was his way of saying that he would rather die than see his beloved violated. A tight squeeze caused Tom to exhale sharply.

"All right," he answered with a sigh, wrapping his arms around his lover. "I promise I won't do it again."

Then, Loki did a most surprising thing. With a grunt, he lifted the engineer into his arms.

"Loki, I'm too heavy! Your leg!"

Ignoring his cry, Loki limped out of the room, with Tom clinging to him like a child. He carried his lover to the bathroom, where the large tub was filled with steaming water, ingeniously kept warm by a set of pipes that their father had devised and which were all connected to the furnace down in the basement. Pulling up a stool with his right foot, he set Tom down on it.

The next fifteen minutes found Tom being carefully cleansed by Loki. The irony of the situation did not escape him. He found it strange that he was now in the same position that Loki had been in when his father had first brought him home. At the same time, he felt happy and safe, feelings that have eluded him since he arrived in his hometown.

His joy must have been reflected on his face because Loki was blinking up at him with a quirky smile curling up a corner of his full lips.

"What?" Tom asked in amused irritation. "You look like you just swallowed a fly and..."

Before the engineer could say anything else, Loki suddenly picked him up. However, because of the sudden shift in weight – and his crippled right leg numb from being in a kneeling position for so long – Loki keeled over, sending the two of them splashing into the tub. They sat up, sputtering out water as they laughed. No, only Tom was actually laughing. There was a broad grin on Loki's handsome face.

Because of the sudden release of tension, Tom's laughter deteriorated into heartbreaking sobs, and he buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, Loki!" His body heaved with every exhalation. "God only knows that you've always been the stronger one between us. I don't deserve you or your love!"

Leaning forward, Loki took Tom's hands and gently kissed the fingertips. He then pulled his lover to him and gave him three sweet kisses on the lips.  With each kiss, he painfully rasped out a word that the engineer strained to hear.

"I...love...you."

"I love you too, Loki," Tom whispered back, gazing into the depths of those lovely green eyes. Struck with timidity by the boldness he saw in those emerald orbs, he lowered his gaze slightly, his iridescent blue eyes peering through the curtain of his glossy golden lashes. "I belong to you now."

Loki shook his head, smiling, and pressed his lips close to Tom's ear. Nipping playfully at the lobe, he breathed out huskily, "No. We belong to each other."

Gazing down tenderly at his lover who was suckling at his right nipple, Tom wondered why he always thought of Loki as his beloved angel. With his skin slick with water and bath oil and his brown hair floating like delicate seaweed on the surface, he looked more like an alluring siren who was eagerly devouring his prized catch.

Sighing, Tom leaned back against the curving slope of the tub's walls and spread his legs to accommodate his lover. With great care, he let his fingers comb through those long locks and play with the silky strands that spread out like a lacey fan on his palms.

Blissfully content as he was with Loki's lingual homage to his breast, Tom at first did not feel his lover's shift in position until he saw bright green eyes gazing back at him. Mesmerized by those emerald pools, he did not feel the teasing finger that was drawing curlicues on a mound of his butt until it slipped in with the stealth of a worm entering its burrow.

"Ooh!" the engineer could not stop himself from moaning deliciously as Loki poked and probed him, going deeper and deeper.

When a second finger joined the first, he moved his hips to meet those stretching, questing digits until a fingertip brushed against his gland, drawing a gasp from his lips. Never had he felt a sensation that intense before.

It took a while for him to realize that those teasing fingers had made a quick retreat, and  their owner was giving him a smug smile.

"What? Is that all?" Tom complained, his lips pursing into a sullen pout.

He did not have anything more to whine about, however, when Loki finally made his move. Cupping his lover's buttocks, he eased Tom's hips upward and forward. Because he had earlier poured a generous amount of herbal essence into the tub, the water admixed with oil had made his burgeoning member slick enough, so that it allowed him to enter his lover in one smooth glide, eliciting a luscious whimper.

"Why you sneaky bastard!" Tom declared in teasing accusation, feeling himself completely filled. "You've been planning this for a long time, haven't you!"

Loki gave him a look that said eloquently, "So what if I have?" and began rocking his hips forward and back, so that all words conveniently deserted his lover.

The water in the tub lapped against their skins, becoming violent waves, as their bodies moved in unison at an ever quickening pace and pounding rhythm. Loki showered butterfly kisses on Tom's flushed face, reveling in the cries of delight and pleasure that were issuing from his parted lips.

Tom clung hard to Loki – the fingers of his left hand digging into his lover's silky tresses while the palm of his right hand was pressed flat on the lower back to further quicken the steady pistoning rhythm.

"It’s not enough, Loki!" Tom cried between intakes of air. "Please! Drive it in! Faster! Harder!"

Ever the obedient one, Loki did as he was told, and more. Feeling the engineer's hard rod poking his navel, he reached down and began stroking it at the same frenzied rhythm that was demanded of him.

Both men would have wanted to prolong the delightful sensations and let it wash over them again and again.

One driving thrust, and the engorged head of Loki's manhood bumped against the sensitive spot within, causing him to spurt his juices with geyser-force pulses into his lover's depths. Overwhelmed by the mind-blowing sensations that resulted from that brief contact between head and sensitive gland, Tom came with such explosive force that his seed caused violent ripples in the bathtub water. At the same time, his body was rocked by the little earthquakes that accompanied such a powerful climax.

When the tremors had at last subsided, Tom gazed down at his lover, who lay slumped against his chest. Sensing those blue eyes upon him, Loki turned his head, so that his chin lay on the engineer's sternum. Tom could barely hold back his giggles, seeing that the hungry look had not disappeared from those owlish green eyes.

Kissing Loki on the tip of his nose, Tom suggested huskily, "Before we shrivel up like prunes, why don't we continue this in the bedroom?"

Minutes later, with the drapes of the bedroom shut against prying eyes – both human and demonic – the two men continued their sensual play, taking turns to enjoy the delights offered by each other's body. Tom soon discovered that Loki moved with the grace of a silkie, urging him to rock his hips in fluid undulations, so that their lovemaking resembled a most lewd dance. On the other hand, probably because there was still that desire for punishment, Loki found that Tom wanted to be taken with a violence that was akin to rape. It was like trying to break a powerful stallion, but he did so with reassuring kisses and by setting a gentler pace that would drive his lover to the heights of pleasure, but not to the depths of injury and pain.

All through the night and most of the morning of the next day, the two lovers pushed their heated bodies again and again to the brink, until finally they fell on the rumpled sheets – their skins flushed and sleek with sweat – drawing nourishment from each other's dwindling erection. They did not realize that they had fallen into the deep slumber that followed erotic satiety, until they heard the pops and booms of fireworks from the fairgrounds.

Loki would have been content to lie in bed all day and relish the aftermath of their lovemaking. But Tom had other plans.

An hour and a half later, Loki was sitting on the bed, dressed in a loose light green shirt that complimented his pretty jade eyes. Tom had already clipped the suspenders to his trousers, and was now tying a dark blue kerchief around his neck, which hung loosely along the V of his shirt's collar. The engineer was similarly attired, except that his shirt was a smoky gray and he wore a black kerchief around his neck.

Sensing the curious looks that Loki was throwing at him, Tom simply said in answer to the unspoken question hanging between them, "You're coming with me to the inauguration of the Wheel of Heaven."

Loki gaped at the engineer, who seemed to have lost his mind. He began gesticulating wildly in protest, but Tom stopped those gestures by clasping his waving hands in his own warm grip.

"The Wheel of Heaven is as much your child as she is mine," he stated firmly. "She needs both of us to be there."

Loki shook his head furiously, his eyes mirroring his fear of what may happen if he showed up at the fairgrounds. To allay his fears, Tom gave him a reassuring kiss on the lips.

"The moment has finally come, Loki. Now is the time for you to show to everyone what the Wheel is and what she can do for all mankind."

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 9

Tom had expected outright hostility when he and Loki arrived at the fairgrounds at mid-afternoon. But he never expected the uneasy wariness that greeted them. Although there were many who glared at them sharply, no one made any violent moves against them, probably because of the threat posed by the saber that was hanging visibly in its scabbard at the engineer's left hip and the shiny pistol in its holster at his right. Still, Loki shrank back behind his lover, seeing the hatred in the townsfolk.

It was Tom who laughed. "Why do you cower at my back, Loki? You have faced the wrath of demons. Surely the anger of humans pale in comparison. Stand tall, Loki. You – more than anyone else – have every right to be here."

Mayor Jackson, however, could not contain his outrage upon laying eyes on the cause of the first disaster. Like a blustering ox, he stormed towards the engineer and demanded, "What the hell is he doing here? I thought we had an agreement!"

Dr. Branagh trundled over to them, huffing and puffing from the brief run. "I'm so sorry, Tom. He just refuses to listen to reason!"

"It's all right, Dr. Branagh. I'll handle this," Tom reassured him calmly. "Mr. Mayor, as I just told Loki here, he has every right to witness the launching of this magnificent ride which he and my father had envisioned."

"You fool!" the Mayor retorted back. "Do you intend to bring Hell's fury down upon us?"

"But didn't you and your dedicated town council see to it that such a horrendous disaster would not happen again?" Tom took an angry step towards the Mayor and thumped his sternum painfully with a hard finger. "You have robbed him of his voice. I will not see you rob him of the chance to behold his dream become real."

At that veiled threat, Mayor Jackson found that he could not speak a single dissenting word. Snorting in fury, he pushed his way through the group of laborers that were milling around them. Giving Tom an approving grin, Dr. Branagh hurried after the Mayor.

One of the men – a tall, burly driller by the name of Hemsworth – doffed his hat to the engineer. "Mr. Hiddleston? Everything is ready, just as you had ordered."

Ignoring the curious look that Loki gave him, Tom smiled at the men who had helped him in completing the Wheel. "Thank you, Mr. Hemsworth, gentlemen. If it were not for all your hard work – and your trust – we would not be here today to celebrate this accomplishment."

"You are thanking us, but we should apologize to you for the way we acted," the driller named Ruffalo piped in. "Old Evans wanted to see the Wheel built." To Loki, he added, "And he never stopped believing in your innocence. In a way, we just wanted to see everyone's wishes come true."

"And we’re not going to let anyone – or any thing – bring down what we had worked so damned hard to build, right, men?" Foreman Downey rallied his workers.

At once, determined whoops rose among the men. As they dispersed, they patted Tom's back for a job well done. Some even shook hands with a startled Loki. When the laborers were gone, Loki gaped at the engineer with his mouth hanging open in bewilderment.

Smiling, Tom pushed Loki's jaw upward with a fingertip before sealing his lips with a kiss, eliciting scandalized gasps from incidental onlookers.

"If cutting your throat open was the Mayor's plan for averting disaster, well, he's got another thing coming," Tom murmured smugly. "Don't worry. I've prepared for any contingency."

There was a horrified expression on Loki's face. The engineer could easily read what was going through his lover's mind.

"You're expecting something bad to happen."

Then, as a seeming portent for impending catastrophe, Juliet Walters – the butcher's portly wife – took to the hastily erected platform before the Wheel to sing in a horrid soprano that shattered the window of a nearby shop.

Grimacing, Loki stuck his fingers in his ears to block out that ear-piercing voice. Despite this, he still heard Tom's confident statement.

"Your turn will soon come on the Wheel's stage."

The two men watched as the proceedings went on without a hitch. They even endured several jaw-breaking yawns all through Mayor Jackson's pompous speech, which included a curt acknowledgement of Tom's contributions to the Wheel's construction.

Whatever else the Mayor said, it drew an outraged yell from Renner, the welder whose life the engineer had saved. "He did a lot more than that, you old wind bag!"

It was during the ribbon-cutting ceremony that the two lovers sensed that something was about to happen. First, a strong wind suddenly blew, sending dust swirling through the crowd. Even the glass lights that were strung up on the Wheel rattled and jingled in alarm.

To Tom, it seemed the Wheel was warning him to "Get ready!"

Just as he had anticipated, a dark pall slowly descended upon the fairgrounds, casting an ominous gloom about the place. Looking up into the sky, storm clouds were gathering with unnatural speed. One did not need perfect vision to see the hundreds of angry red shapes that emerged from those clouds.

When the Mayor finally cut the ribbon with a huge pair of scissors, Tom only said "They're here!" before utter chaos fell upon the town with devastating swiftness.

Irony of ironies, the first to fall victim to the demons' attack was poor Mrs. Walters. It seemed even Hell's denizens had impeccable tastes in music, because two winged behemoths seized her ham-like arms and promptly dumped her, screaming, into a pig pen.

Next were Mayor Jackson and his council, who were strung up on the light posts with ribbons. The only council member who possessed quick thinking to escape his fiendish attackers was Dr. Branagh, who somehow managed to deposit his beefy carcass into an empty cask of rum.

Standing at the periphery of the terrified crowd, Tom and Loki saw the events of fifteen years ago overlapping with the horrors that were unfolding now. At once, it dawned upon Loki the reason for his lover's unwavering confidence.

Just like fifteen years back, one group of demons were swooping down upon the townsfolk, driving them like frightened cattle away from the Wheel. But another group of the devilish creatures were poised around the ride with the clear intent to dismantle it.

Their style of attack was exactly the same as fifteen years ago!

It was Tom who acted first. He strode to meet the panicking crowd that were stampeding his way, pulling out his gun at the same time. Women screamed at the sight of the pistol that was pointed at them. As their husbands pushed them and their children down to the ground, Tom fired at the five demons that were pursuing them. Their wings torn by gunfire, the demons dropped to the ground, roaring in pain and fury. Their cries, however, were silenced by bullets fired straight into their heads, and they melted away into pools of pulsating red slime.

"STAND YOUR GROUND!" Tom shouted at the stunned townspeople. "This is exactly what they want – to see you scurrying about like terrified mice while they destroy the Wheel of Heaven! Are you just going to be cowards and watch as they destroy once again the symbol of our hopes and dreams? Or are you going to stand with me and show them that the children of Adam are not to be trifled with?"

At these rousing words, everyone got to their feet and roared their assent. Men quickly gathered axes and pitchforks. Not to be outdone, their women and children ran into their homes to get butcher knives, heavy rolling pins and baseball bats. Their blood for revenge and mayhem ignited, all were about to charge en masse at their infernal attackers, but Tom stopped their advance with a raise of his arm. They were still human after all, and they were no match for Hell's hordes without any heavy artillery backing them up.

As though having read his thoughts, the engineer's men came rumbling up with the water carts and hoses of the town fire brigade. Loki watched, wide-eyed, as streams of water were fired at the flying demons. Those that were splashed fell crashing to the ground, their skins now riddled with purulent boils. Helpless, they were pummeled by the angry people.

Seeing Father Gregg, Sor Matilda, and a small group of nuns standing beside the carts, Loki understood the reason for the water's anti-demon potency. The water inside the carts has been blessed by the town's priest and nuns. When a cart ran out of its precious load, it was hastily refilled with water from the wells and blessed with a wave of sweet-smelling incense, a sprinkle of holy water, and hastily recited prayers.

With undisguised admiration, Loki smiled at his lover, who was rallying the simple folk as though they were seasoned veterans of war. The demons had sorely underestimated the engineer's capacity for guile and utter deviousness.

"And why, pray tell, are you smiling?"

Loki found himself blinking at Tom, whose face was suddenly so close to his. Although he was breathing heavily from the strain of the battle, there was a maniacal grin on his lips. His lover was clearly enjoying himself. Abiding an irresistible urge, he gave Tom a deep kiss.

The engineer chuckled in pleasant surprise. "I should play the hero more often if I would get a reward like that." Taking Loki's hand, Tom simply stated "But it's your turn now!" and they ran in the direction of the Wheel.

As they drew closer and closer to the Wheel of Heaven, they saw that the demons could not touch the structure. One creature made to seize a spoke, only to pull back its hand as though it had been burned. Every attempt to lay hands on the ride caused a bright green aura to be emitted from the Wheel, specifically radiating from that spot at the vertical tower's base where Loki had so tenderly kissed it. However, seeing that aura gradually waning in strength, the engineer knew that its protective shield would not last long.

Waving his pistol in the air to catch the attention of the fire brigade, Tom yelled, "Train your hoses on the Wheel!"

Complying with his urgent command, the men fired powerful jets of water at the Wheel of Heaven. The monsters that had the misfortune of being caught in the streams dropped – howling in pain – to the ground to be beaten by the townspeople. The others flew out of the hoses' reach, only to discover that it was more difficult now to destroy the Wheel.

Tom and Loki were climbing up the metal steps to the Wheel's stage, when they heard the familiar voice of the engineer's nightly tormentor. Sure enough, the demon was flying above their heads, sans a left arm.

"What are you fools doing? Are you just going to let some worthless humans get in the way of the Master's desire? Even if it costs you your miserable lives, destroy the Wheel of Heaven!" The demon pointed at the two lovers. "DESTROY THEM!"

The engineer's face was grim, seeing the demons diving down on them with claws and fangs bared.

"You want us?" Tom shouted. "Then come and get us!" He then fired his gun at the monsters. Some were blasted with holy water.

There was a furious roar. Looking up, they saw the one-armed demon gripping a gondola's support bar. Despite the agonizing pain, it wrenched the bar loose. Seeing what their leader had done, the other demons followed suit, proceeding to tear the Wheel apart.

"We have no time to lose!" Tom exclaimed to Loki. "We must get you up on that stage now!"

Bewildered though he was by his lover's actions, Loki held on to Tom's hand, allowing himself to be led up the steps to the stage.

Soon enough, they stepped inside the hollow at the Wheel's fulcrum. From that great height, they could see the demons that were tearing the Wheel to pieces. Below them, the townsfolk fought valiantly to protect the towering structure, which they now considered as their own.

Tom turned to face his confused lover. Gripping Loki's upper arms, he stated bluntly, "I want you to sing, Loki."

Loki gaped at the engineer as though the man had gone completely mad. He shook his head hard, gesturing insistently to the scar on his throat.

"Listen to me, Loki!" Tom persisted. "Dr. Branagh told me everything. It's true that the council ordered that your vocal chords be severed. But...he never performed the operation. He only opened up your throat, and that's it. The doctor did nothing to you! Afraid that the council might find out, he made you believe that you could no longer speak and had you incarcerated in the asylum. He did all this to keep you safe."

Loki found it difficult to believe what he was hearing. To have lived a painful lie for fifteen years? He felt tears filling his eyes at the horrible memories of abuse and loneliness that he had endured. Before his tears could fall, however, Tom enfolded him in a desperate embrace.

"Now is not the time to remember the past. Now is the time for you to fulfill the duty that you were meant to perform. Sing, Loki. Sing for the town and its people. Sing for the Wheel of Heaven. Sing for me. Sing to Heaven that it give us the promised miracle!"

Loki's green eyes grew wide at the sight of the demon that had sneaked up behind his lover. Grabbing Tom's pistol, he shot it right between the eyes. The engineer kicked its carcass off the stage. Straightening up, Loki looked at his lover with grim determination and nodded.

Tom smiled as he took back his gun. Unsheathing his saber as well, he took his position behind his lover, so that they stood back to back.

"It's been a long time since I last heard you sing, Loki," he told his beloved sincerely. "Nothing would please me more than to hear your voice again. Don't worry. As you had protected me, I shall now do the same for you..." A backward glance and a tender smile. "...Because I love you."

For a moment, Loki still hesitated. Even if what Dr. Branagh had revealed to his lover were true, it has been fifteen years of absolute silence. Could a person re-learn to speak, much more to sing? But Tom had placed all his trust in him. He could not give in to self-doubt, not now when the man he loved was relying on him.

Loki kept his eyes focused on his lover, who was fighting off demons with bullets and blade.

"I love you...Tom," Loki murmured, and he was surprised to hear his voice – now much deeper than last he remembered it.

"Nice to hear your voice again, Loki," Tom complimented him as he slashed through a demon's wing.

Loki then clasped his hands together in silent prayer. Taking several deep breaths to calm his trembling nerves, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth to sing.

Accustomed to singing at a higher range as a child, at his first attempt, poor Loki literally croaked. He turned a dark shade of red as he listened in annoyance to the gales of laughter that erupted among the demons.

"Is this the wondrous singer whose voice could reach Heaven's Gates?" the one-armed demon taunted Loki. To his cackling companions, he declared, "Comrades, perhaps we should just enjoy ourselves on this worldly contraption since it isn't a threat to Hell after all!"

Loki was on the verge of breaking into tears of frustration. But then, he heard the engineer begin to sing in a gentle tenor. The song was a French carol that they both loved when they were children.

Tom stopped at the end of the first stanza and gave his lover a confident grin. "Try again."

Nodding, Loki hummed a few soft notes until he found a comfortable range. And then, with all the love in his heart that he felt for his brave protector, he unleashed the full power of his voice.

Everyone – human and demon alike – ceased fighting to gape at the singer on the Wheel's stage. Never had they heard a tenor so rich and beautiful, and so unearthly in quality. It seemed as if Loki's voice was reaching right into their souls.

Tom himself began to weep in joy at that lovely voice, but then he saw Loki giving him a hopeful look. His own voice faltered at first as he joined his lover in a duet. With Loki's smile of encouragement, however, the engineer met that angelic tenor with his more earthly singing until their voices blended perfectly, the passion and raw power resonating through the spokes and crossmembers of the Wheel of Heaven.

It was then that the Wheel revealed its true nature. As everyone looked on in amazement, the Wheel of Heaven began to vibrate, amplifying the voices of the singers on stage, so that there was no need to strain the ears to listen. Because of its unique construction, the voices echoed outwards, sweeping through the crowd and up into the sky like a gust of wind. Some even swore that they did not hear just two voices, but three. Indeed, the Wheel of Heaven was singing.

Only one was unaffected by the Wheel's display of power, and his rage could no longer be contained, especially when he saw that his comrades were not heeding his commands.

The one-armed demon focused his sharp eyes on Tom, who had swept Loki into his arms and were now dancing a merry waltz.

Stretching his wings wide, the demon roared, "Thomas Hiddleston...DIE!" and swooped down at full speed with the intent of ripping the heart out of the engineer's body.

Because his lover had swung him around, Loki saw the demon's charge. "TOM!" he screamed in warning, pulling the other man behind him so that his body would meet those sharp claws.

In the suddenness and confusion of the one-armed demon's attack, no one noticed the storm clouds part to reveal a shining gold circle in the sky. Neither did anyone see the tiny twinkling figure that zipped down from it, followed by a formidable winged form with a flowing, bright red cape and a mighty hammer in his hand.

Stunned, Tom blinked at the great bulk of the demon hovering behind Loki. With his lover deathly still in his embrace, he thought that the monster had murdered him in cold blood. Crying out in fury, he made to pull out his sword, but trembling fingers stayed his hand.

Loki was alive!

Swiftly, Tom drew his beloved close to him – enfolding him within the protective circle of his arm – and faced his infernal adversary, only to gawk dumbstruck.

A pale pink figure with golden curls and snowy white wings had fastened onto the demon's head with his chubby little arms and legs. Giggling with delight, the little angel was bussing the demon again and again. Even the powerful archangel standing behind it was gaping with jaw slack. As the lovers looked on in amazement, the demon's skin lost its fiery color and turned a dull rusty red. Even the rage in his eyes had dissipated.

Regaining his wits, the archangel sheathed his hammer and – after much tugging – dislodged the playful cherub from the monster's face. He then bowed to the two men in apology for his mischievous ward's antics.

The archangel's bright blue eyes focused on Loki as he said with great pride, "You did well, my brother."

For a few moments, Loki just blinked in confusion until memory returned to him. "Thor?"

The archangel who was once the Norse God of Thunder threw a sharp glance, and the one-armed demon too lowered his head and murmured, "We are sorry for all the trouble we've caused."

The cherub, however, was not the least bit apologetic. Breaking free from his guardian, he flew towards the lovers. To the engineer, he gave a sweet peck on the cheek, gushing "This is a marvelous ride!" To Loki, he bestowed a big smile of gratitude and said, "We waited for a long, long time, but you kept your promise. Thank you!"

Gazing up at the gold portal in the heavens, the cherub put his little fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. At that signal, hundreds of giggling and laughing Cherubim flew down in a shower of twinkling lights. All of them were being pursued by frantic Archangels and Angels. Armored Dominions – they who regulate angelic duties – could only shake their heads and motion to the lower ranked angels to let the cherubim be. Thrones – in the form of fiery winged wheels – raced madly along the electric cables and banners that were strung up on the Wheel. Stately Principalities flew down and settled themselves in select gondolas. The miraculous Virtues sat on the spokes of the Wheel. Beside them were the Powers, who – probably not convinced about the safety of both angels and humans in the company of so many demons – kept their spears in hand.

But the Cherubim had tamed the demons. The little angels were practically leading the hulking monsters by the hand as they approached the awe-struck townsfolk. Before long, the air was filled with the laughter of angels, children and demons, who played with exuberant glee as though they were the best of friends and not mortal foes.

The Archangels and Angels, on the other hand, took the opportunity to meet the humans they were charged to protect. Not a few men and women escaped this intimate encounter without tears filling their eyes, as their guardian angels reassured them that their trials on Earth were but a mere prelude to the rewards that they were sure to receive in Heaven.

Other angels flew to the town cemetery and, within a few minutes, they had in tow the happy souls of Crispian's End's former citizens, who were only too delighted to be reunited with their loved ones. Old Evans was among them, and he waved to the lovers as his guardian angel seated him between two Principalities.

To Tom's unbridled happiness, two archangels approached them, escorting his parents. Having missed her son so much, Diana Hiddleston flung her arms around him and held him close, showering kisses all over his face. She too gave Loki a loving hug and a tender kiss. There were glistening tears on James Hiddleston's face.

"I told you that you would see angels if you just believed in him," James whispered to the engineer. Wrapping his arms around his two sons, he said with a voice hoarse with emotion, "You did well! I'm so proud of you!"

At this point, the Wheel of Heaven emitted two low groans, as if something tremendously heavy was added to its weight.

Grinning, James declared, "It looks you have two special guests on the Wheel's maiden run."

The two men lifted their heads in unison and trained their gaze towards the rocking gondola at the very top – where they could vaguely make out a glowing figure in white sitting beside a bulky red form with a pointed tail waving to and fro with the sinuousness of a snake.

Tom's eyes were as round as platters as he gaped once more at his father. "You're joking, right?"

But James just gave him a wink as he and his wife flew up and settled themselves in a gondola together with their guardian angels.

Feeling his lover's perplexed gaze upon him, Loki breathed in deeply and revealed, "You asked me once what I was. Well, I remember everything now. As you have probably guessed by now, I was once Loki, the Norse God of Chaos. But, when I realized that the Nine Realms were living through an unending cycle of jealousy, hatred, war and pain, I sought to break it. On the day of Ragnarok, I sacrificed myself to Jormungand's poisoned fangs in place of my brother Thor. For my selfless act, I was delivered to Heaven and reborn as a cherub. But even in Heaven, I never lost my restlessness or my silver tongue."

Loki breathed out a sigh. "I once asked Him why there were tight borders separating Heaven, Hell and the human world. Isn't it possible for beings from all these worlds to meet once and a while, forget about all the fighting, and just get along even for a short period of time? I believed that these brief interludes of togetherness would eventually lead to eternal peace. Back then, I was such an innocent and idealistic cherub. He was probably just humoring me back then, but He told me that when I was bigger, I should prove to him that such an impossible thing was possible. Young as I was, I thought why wait till I'm older? But the passage to Earth proved to be traumatic for me, and I lost all memories of my life in as a god and in Heaven. I lived through so many years of suffering and loneliness in this world. However, if there's one thing that I learned from you and your family, it's never to lose hope. And now, I bring the promised peace and hope to all." He bestowed a passionate kiss upon Tom's lips. "Now's the time, Tom. Show to all what the Wheel of Heaven can do." Loki looked at the topmost gondola. "They're waiting for you."

Certainly not one to pass up the chance to show off his creation to the Lords of both Heaven and Hell, Tom waved to his men below and ordered, "START HER UP!"

Hastening to comply, Foreman Downey ran to the control box and fired up the Wheel of Heaven's engines. The massive ride slowly began to turn, gradually picking up speed until it was fast enough to draw squeals of delight from its passengers. To add to everyone's entertainment, Loki sang songs of praise and joy, even a few bawdy tunes from Valhalla's halls, drawing cheers from the crowd. Tom never lost the stupefied expression on his face when he beheld God and Satan chatting amiably. They even gave the engineer a smart salute.

For the next four hours, the Wheel of Heaven delighted its riders – whether they be human, angel or demon. Everyone had the opportunity to enjoy what it had to offer, and Tom's happiness knew no bounds at the success of his creation. But the greatest surprise was yet to come.

It was after all the human passengers had disembarked that the engineer noticed a tiny cherub huffing and puffing as it tried to pull the huge lever that would retract the axle from its attachment to the Wheel. He looked questioningly at his lover, who only gave him a reassuring nod.

"Hey!" Tom called out. "How about giving this little fellow a hand?"

Hemsworth stepped forward, flexing his beefy arms and spitting into his palms. He gripped the lever and pulled, but nothing happened. The cherub gave him a pout, which was eloquent enough to say that he was useless. The one-armed demon joined in the effort, as well as Thor, who surprisingly looked like the driller. The lever, however, would not budge.

"The axle's stuck, sir!" the blacksmith informed the engineer.

A quick inspection of the fulcrum showed that the snap mechanism for the connecting bolts was jammed. Opening the manual control panel above his head, Tom first tinkered with a few wires before irritatingly driving his fist inside. At once, the bolts retracted. Another punch and the snap locks on the vertical towers opened up.

"Forget the lever!" the engineer shouted back. "Pull the axle back by hand!"

It was an unprecedented moment, truly an awe-inspiring sight to see as humans, angels and demons joined forces to yank the axle out of the Wheel's pivot.

The minute the axle had been completely pulled back and the bolts snapped into its attachments to the Wheel's middle drive rim, Loki raised his arms to the heavens, and beautiful emerald green wings tore through his shirt at the back. Tom listened as his lover sang in the language of the angels. His voice was soon joined by the voices of a whole choir of glorious six-winged Seraphim, who fluttered in a circle above the Wheel like a halo or a glowing white crown. That was the cue that the Virtues were waiting for. As one, they took off and flew around and around the Wheel, raining golden lights down upon it.

Suddenly, the Wheel of Heaven's frame began to radiate with a healthy green glow. A strong vibration shook the entire structure, so that the engineer had to cling to its side. His eyes grew bigger and bigger, as the Wheel slowly but surely floated out of its notch on the vertical towers and up into the evening sky.

Loki waved to the townsfolk below, who all had the same slack-jawed expression on their faces. He strode towards Tom and wrapped his arm around his waist.

"Hang on!" Loki said as the Wheel reached the highest point of its vertical ascent.

With a gasp, Tom did just that as the Wheel of Heaven suddenly turned on its side, and he found that there was nothing under his feet but air. Laughing, Loki darted between the spokes as the Wheel tumbled and turned and spun at great speed. There were excited screeches, and Tom saw that all one hundred fifty gondolas had detached and were being tossed around like balls by the jerking motions of the Wheel. Angels and demons were practically hugging each other, as the amazing ride sent them shooting into the air and caught them as they plummeted, only to send them right back up again. The engineer could sense the immense joy radiating from the Wheel as it rolled and tumbled across the heavens like a gigantic child at play. Why should he – its parent – not trust in it?

Tom suddenly let go, drawing a frantic cry from his lover. He fell for about a hundred feet...to land on tiptoe on the Wheel's outer drive rim. This footing was only temporary because the Wheel tossed him high into the sky. Before Loki could grab his lover's hand, two cherubs caught Tom and hurled the squealing engineer out of Loki's reach. Seeing that he was about to collide with a diagonal beam, the engineer turned on his side, and his body passed easily through the space between the beam and a spoke. He saw Thor with his open hand reaching out to him. Grabbing it, he was spun around in a wide arc and hurled back in the direction from which he came, drawing a furious snarl from Loki, who was pursuing him. The Wheel caught him and sent him sliding down a spoke. Tom's laughter was ringing in the air as he leaped from one spoke to another, trying to keep up with the racing Thrones. As the Wheel assumed a vertical position, he was about to leap onto a thick crossmember, when Loki snatched him in mid-air and carried him back inside the Wheel's fulcrum.

Breathless from the pursuit, Loki tweaked his lover's nose before admonishing, "Tiara...you are being too rambunctious. Enough with the rough play before you actually hurt someone."

"'Tiara'?" Tom asked curiously.

"The Wheel of Heaven. That's her name. You do know what she is, don't you? With your great mind, you actually created a Throne."

"Yes, I figured as much," the engineer lovingly caressed the smooth metal. "She's Daddy's little girl all right."

"I wouldn't exactly call her 'little', Tom!" Loki sputtered in mock outrage.

Tom heaved a sigh that sounded both sad and wistful to Loki. Before he could ask what was wrong, the engineer spoke to the Wheel, "How about putting me down now, Tiara?"

Confused, Loki could not get his mouth to work as the Wheel of Heaven descended, rather reluctantly it seemed. Even greater was his alarm when Tom leaped from the stage and stepped onto the platform. He would have gone down the stairs, but Loki grabbed his hand.

"Tom? What are you doing?"

There was a sorrowful little smile on Tom's face as he turned to look at his lover. "My work is done. There's nothing left for me to do."

"That's not true!" Loki argued. "What if she breaks down or something? She would need you to fix her!"

"Then, just bring her to me for overhauling. You are now her helmsman. It's your job to see to her welfare."

"But what about us? I thought that – when we complete her – we would be together forever. Now you're leaving me? If you're going to stay on Earth, then I'll stay too!"

Tom gripped Loki's hands tightly. "Listen to me. You have suffered enough on this Earth. Now is the time for you to be happy." He waved to the Wheel. "She is my gift to you; your reward for enduring through all the hardships. It is my wish that you share this marvelous gift to others who are experiencing trials that are just as difficult as yours had been, or perhaps even more. I believe in your dream that there will come a time when all divisions will be gone and everyone would live together in peace and harmony. Let this Wheel be a symbol of that hope. This is what the Almighty intended her to be, right? You are her soul, Loki. She needs you to guide her."

"But you are her heart, Tom," Loki insisted. "She needs you too. I need you!"

"Not as I am now," Tom confessed with a shake of his head. "I've done so many things that I've come to regret, things that I couldn't bring myself to forgive, even if you had forgiven me." He let out a painful laugh. "Let's put it this way. I must earn my wings first, so that I could be worthy of her..." He gazed up at the Wheel, and then smiled at his lover. "...And of you."

Loki could no longer hold back his tears. "And how long is that going to take?"

"To be honest with you, Loki, I really don't know."

Overcome by despair, Loki threw his arms around Tom, their kiss long and deep, imprinting into their souls for all eternity the love they will always share.

"I don't know if I could live without you, Tom," Loki admitted, his voice pinched with grief. "Even a human lifetime seems like forever."

"I'll tell you what," the engineer said, easing out of that desperate embrace before he could succumb to the true cries of his heart. "Judging from the rough and tumble play that our baby seems to enjoy, I'd say she's in for a lot of wear and tear in – by my estimate – twelve years time. Bring her back here to Crispian's End after twelve years. I promise I'll be waiting. Now...it's time for you to go." The engineer noticed the angels and demons who were reduced to tears in the gondolas while watching and listening to their exchange. "Bring everyone home safely."

Loki was crestfallen, seeing that his lover would not be dissuaded. There was also reluctance in the Wheel as – inch by inch – it began to rise. But difficult as it was for him to do, Loki let go, his trembling fingers caressing his lover's palm.

"Goodbye, Tom," the words came out as sobs.

"No, not 'goodbye'," Tom corrected him. "I'll be seeing you again very soon, Loki."

Loki could no longer speak. He slipped to his knees, his whole body shaking as he wept.

The heartbreaking sight of his despondent lover proved to be too much for Tom to bear. He turned his back to the Wheel and went down the steps. When he reached the bottom, however, he could not help but look back. But the Wheel of Heaven had already disappeared into the clouds.

Tom clamped a hand to his mouth as he slumped down on the steps and surrendered himself to his tears.

"Twelve years, Loki..." he whispered, clinging to the hope offered by that promise. "I swear to you, I'll be here waiting."

Chapter Text

THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN

Copyright February 8, 2013 By Rory (Original Version © November 9, 2008)

Chapter 10

November 21, 1973

"Mr. Hiddleston? Tom! The delivery trucks have arrived." A suspicious pause. "Are you even listening to me, sir?"

Luke Windsor glowered over his mentor's shoulder to read the bold headline that filled the front page of the tabloid he was reading: "UFO SPOTTED OVER DA NANG." There was even a picture of the aforementioned spacecraft. To the young engineer's critical eye, it didn't look at all like a formidable alien vessel but a battered old Ferris wheel, the image of which was just superimposed over a jungle landscape.

"Yes, I'm listening to you, Luke. Yes, I also know that the delivery trucks have already arrived, thanks to the huge uproar they made driving up the road. Now, perhaps you could toddle off and see to the careful unloading of our precious cargo, so that this old man could read his morning paper in peace."

"I don't think the trash you're reading qualifies as a newspaper. Then again, you don't look like you're reading it at all," Luke remarked accusingly, his eyes narrowing at the calculations that were scribbled beside the UFO photograph. Straight lines, arcs and angles were drawn over the spacecraft itself.

Thomas Hiddleston lowered the tabloid he was reading to glare at his associate engineer. "My dear Luke! Why don't you take advantage of this beautiful countryside and wander about and just simply enjoy yourself? And tell the men to do the same. When they just stand around like that, they look like hideously pale mushrooms in the landscape. Mark my words, you'll be too busy later on to do much gallivanting around."

"But what the hell are we doing in this small town with a billion dollar cargo of titanium rods and casings? You said that we're here to do major repairs. Except for a few rundown mansions and these rusting..." Luke gave one of the two vertical towers a kick. "...Whatever they are, I haven't seen anything that remotely needs repairs of the magnitude that would require a super-expensive metal like titanium. Hell, even the townspeople had gathered to see what we're doing. They must think us to be terrorists or a bunch of idiots."

Tom could not stop himself from laughing at that amusing description. "Oh, believe me, they don't think of us that way! This is my hometown after all. In fact, they're here to assist your team." He caught the dubious glance that his heir apparent threw at the townsfolk dressed in colorful festival clothes. "Don't let their appearance deceive you, my boy. I've had the privilege of supervising their grandfathers, their fathers, and now their sons and even some of their daughters, and you won't find such able, exuberant assistants, especially for the job at hand."

"Just what are we doing in the middle of nowhere? What are we supposed to do?"

From up in the cloudy sky, there was a low rumbling drone, gradually getting louder and louder.

"Oh, good! They're here at last!" Tom slapped his hands on the armrest of his sun chair and stood up, picking up his cane, although even at the ripe old age of ninety-six, he really had no use for it being still of sound mind and body. "First, we'll do a complete inspection and see what needs to be fixed. Then, before we apply the reinforcements, I think we should..."

Suddenly, the air was filled with the discordant melody of Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit," causing everyone in the vicinity to clap their hands to their ears. Only Tom was glaring up at the sky, tapping his cane in growing irritation.

So it was, to the great astonishment of Luke and his team of engineers who had crowded behind him, that a worn and battered Ferris wheel – the same one plastered on the tabloid's front page – dropped out of the sky. All fled helter-skelter to avoid the imminent crash, except for Tom who stood his ground, shouting something about "brakes" which could not be heard completely over the incessant wailing of Grace Slick.

Before it could hit the earth, the Ferris wheel came to an abrupt stop, hovering a mere inch above the ground. But then, it began to teeter. A moan and a groan after, the Ferris wheel just fell over in what looked like absolute exhaustion. The old engineer surprisingly escaped the crash unscathed, his stiff form having passed through the wheel's fulcrum.

Then, one by one, the wheel's gondolas – with parachutes attached to them – floated down. One of them, Luke saw, had a rider in it, a handsome young man who resembled his mentor in his youth. Happiness glittered in his pretty green eyes as they alighted upon Tom.

As the stranger got out of the gondola, Tom stated with stern patience, "I pray that you have a good explanation for this, Loki."

"I'm washing my hands completely off this one, Tom," the man named Loki replied, raising both hands in surrender. Luke's jaw dropped as Loki pushed forward four trembling cherubs. The chubby little angels were wearing netted green helmets and khaki diapers. Their faces and wings were even colored with camouflage paint. "We had already picked up the souls of those who perished in the conflict, but these children wanted to get a closer look at the fighting and actually convinced Tiara to fly lower. I swear, I never want to see another rocket or napalm bomb ever again."

"And what about this racket?" The aged engineer was referring to the thundering music.

"They replaced the calliope with a karaoke machine that they picked up in Kobe."

Tom breathed out an exasperated sigh. "Baby angels these days! You're just as bad as human children! Maybe I should give each of you a whack on the tushie with my cane, so that you'll behave better next time."

At once, the cherubim burst into heartbreaking wails, which sounded like wind chimes. A petite but voluptuous lady gathered all four children into her arms and rocked them against her heaving bosom.

"Mr. Hiddleston!" she declared in outrage. "You wouldn't put the rod to these adorable little angels!"

Tom's eyes narrowed at the sight of the lecherous grins on the cherubs' faces as they pressed their pudgy cheeks to the woman's abundant breasts. "I wouldn't call them 'angels', my dear Scarlett. Besides, you pamper them too much that's why they misbehave. Oh well! My men will begin repairs on the Wheel of Heaven. Why don't you take these rascals under your care, so that they won't get in anyone's way?"

Nodding, the woman took the crying angels away to her cottage.

The engineer tenderly ran his palm over the metal of the Wheel. "Don't you worry, Tiara. I promise you'll be as good as new."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw one of the apprentices struggling to yank out with a pair of pliers a bit of shrapnel that was stuck in a joint.

To Luke, he advised, "Please tell the boys to handle her with care. I'm afraid she doesn't want to be tinkered and jostled so roughly and..."

The next minute, the apprentice was sailing through the air, screaming. He landed with a splash in a horse trough.

"Wha...what the..." Luke stammered in shock, having seen how the Wheel tossed the poor apprentice into the sky. "Are you telling me that this Ferris wheel's alive and..."

Tom patted him on the back. "She's a lady, Luke. So be gentle with her."

Luke was about to bombard his mentor with questions, but stopped as Tom pulled Loki close to him.

"You're looking well."

Loki laughed. "I could say the same about you. You're still the dashing gentleman I remember."

"That dashing fellow is long gone. I'm afraid all that's left of him is this doddering old fool."

Luke swiftly turned around as he saw the two men's faces meet in what was obviously a kiss. Knowing better than to intrude at such an intimate moment, he walked away to supervise the repairs on the Wheel. But his sharp ears caught their exchange.

"I've missed you so much, Tom. How long do I have to wait?"

"Just a little more time, Loki. You'll have my answer then."

Repairs on the Wheel of Heaven took a day and a half; reinforcing the whole structure with titanium lasted close to two days. During that time, Luke saw little of his mentor, who preferred to stay in the company of his young lover. Not wanting to disappoint Tom, the engineer made absolutely certain that the Wheel would be in perfect condition.

On the evening of the fifth day – after making final structural and safety checks – Luke deemed the Wheel of Heaven in tiptop shape for flight.

After tucking the four sleepy cherubim inside a gondola, Loki approached the young engineer and shook his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Windsor, for all your help. I could see why Tom thinks so highly of you."

Luke was blushing at that praise. "Uh, no, no! I did nothing really. I merely followed my Master's plans and..."

"Don't be so modest. Tom would never have entrusted you with the secret of the Wheel of Heaven if he wasn't confident in your skills. I see that you made a few innovations yourself." Loki then quietly admitted, "There's one other thing that I would like to thank you for. You see, I only get to see Tom every twelve years. During past visits, he would be too preoccupied with repairs on the Wheel, and we would have very little time for each other. But the last five days have been..." He closed his eyes for a moment to quell his emotions. "Thank you, Luke. Thank you so much."

"I wish I could say that I understand all this," Luke confessed, "but I could see that you and this magnificent Wheel are on an important mission, and I wish you all the luck in this endeavor. However, must you go so soon? Let me get Mr. Hiddleston. I'm sure he would want to see you off."

"No, it's better this way. People say that 'Parting is such sweet sorrow.' But in our case, seeing that we would have to endure another twelve years of loneliness... And I'm always...afraid.  What if something were to happen to him while we're apart? It would've been a comfort to me if he had found some other to love, someone who'd take care of him during our twelve years of separation. I...I know that I should be happy that he had chosen to remain faithful to me. But...it's just too...heartbreaking." Loki gave the young engineer a kiss, which caused him to turn even redder. "Farewell, Luke. Please take care of Tom for me."

"Ohh!" Luke exclaimed as Loki unfurled his wings and flew up to the hollow at the fulcrum. With its helmsman back in control, the Wheel slowly began to rise.

"Loki, wait!"

The engineer whirled to behold his mentor hobbling towards him, his right hand clutching his chest. In his haste, Tom stumbled, so that Luke rushed up to the old man and caught him in his arms. As he held his beloved mentor, his body was suffused with comforting warmth, and he caught a moving wisp out of the corner of his eye.

Luke could barely stifle his gasp, seeing Thomas Hiddleston restored to his prime of youth and health. There was a happy smile on his face as he strode towards the rising Wheel. As he leaped high, sky blue wings stretched out from his back, and he flew straight into the arms of his weeping lover.

The young engineer sat on the cold grass with the head of his mentor cradled on his lap. He watched the Wheel of Heaven ascend into the night sky before tumbling and rolling across the heavens like a silver ring. He did not realize that he was crying until he saw the teardrop that was glistening on Tom's cold cheek.

Laughing hysterically, Luke exclaimed, "Oh, sir! I am such an idiot! I should've gone for a ride in your magnificent Wheel of Heaven while I had the chance!" Then, his body shook with his sobs as he bent down and caressed his mentor's face.

"Always be happy, you two. Always be happy."

END