Behind The Curtain

By: Hatter Theory

Waste Not...

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to characters or concepts created and owned by Marvel

AN: This chapter should be read after chapter 11 of When Silence Falls

Loki stared off into nowhere, fingers tracing letters that made names. He didn't register the names, the engravings, or even the faint pull of the metal running like veins between the two opposing metals, a curious combination that he would, at any other time, have been fascinated by.

Stark was an ass, but easily led by his conscience. And obviously something had needled his conscience, forcing him to create the vambraces still in his hands. Loki allowed himself to be quietly impressed, not that he would admit to any such thing aloud.

A potential lurked there, so much potential. Not even the dwarves had ever thought to create such a metal with such purpose. And the power that lurked, locked inside and Stark didn't even realize it. The skills Stark was quickly mastering combined with the agile mind and that power could easily accomplish a great many things. Not unlimited, but closer than most.

It would be such a shame to waste it, especially when Stark held no love for Odin, or even his place in Asgard. Loki doubted the All Father would be seeing any such gifts in the future. A greedy, vain part of himself trilled at the thought of having something even the god king could not obtain.

Such a waste. Odin and Thor had no idea the things Stark could do, if given half a chance and the right direction. If he could create a new alloy out of guilt, it would be a wonder to see what he would do in the name of friendship.

It wouldn't be difficult. Stark was impulsive, and gave little thought to his actions. Even if the vambraces were bordering on ingenious in their make, they still represented a clumsy, childish apology. A bribe, nothing more, however impressive the end results were.

So much potential, waiting to be used.

Loki told himself that it would be simple. Stark was a simple man, after all. The process of creating a new body for his spirit had done nothing for his heart, his emotions. He was still very, very human. And humans were easy to manipulate. Easier, perhaps, than any other species.

A brief glance down at the inside of the brace made him realize he was tracing his daughter's name. It was the only name not stricken from record, though it was a rarely spoken name. He wondered how Stark had found them all, how he had known how to write names that hadn't been spoken since he was still very, very young. Young and foolish.

It didn't matter. He told himself it didn't matter at all that Stark had found the names and carefully inscribed them into the metal, boldly devoid of ornamentation that would hide them. It didn't matter that Stark had seen a grain of truth inside of a childish (although satisfying) tantrum. It didn't matter that Stark had known how to make the already invaluable priceless.

It was just another testament to the lingering sentimentality of Stark's humanity.