abstractborders | Pacific Rim AU for my dear Thranduil~

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Pacific Rim AU for my dear Thranduil~

No one expected monsters, nightmare-ish creatures unlike anything humanity had ever seen, to come from under the ocean. Sure, the ocean held secrets and was vast and most of it unexplored but no one had imagined it would house such terrifying beasts as what became known across the world as Kaiju. Humanity was defenseless against the creatures, completely unprepared for such enemies, and it wasn't until the development of the Jaeger program that there was any sign of hope whatsoever.

With a new line of defense, humans began to fight back against the Kaiju, brave individuals stepping up to the plate to pilot the immense robots known as Jaegers, most of them willing joining the rangers knowing that they may never come back home.

Bard was one such individual, the widower and father of three an excellent candidate for the program though it took awhile to find someone that was drift compatible. When his partner was found, the pair couldn't have been more different--though they shared a common trait in that they had both lost their wives and cared for their children alone. Many questioned just how they were drift compatible given that they butted heads more than they seemed to be able to work together but when push came to shove?

Their jaeger was a force to be reckoned with.

Seated on the catwalk that ran in front of said robot, Bard leaned on the railing as he watched the maintenance crew run their diagnostics, a few stitches crossing his brow and over his left temple from where the kaiju had caught them off guard. The downfall to being synced with their jaegers was the potential for injuries sustained because of damage to the robot itself but Bard never thought much of it.

It was just a part of the job.

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When the first monster graced the earth with it's delightfully horrid self, Thranduil never thought that he might oneday be one of the people fighting against them on a day to day basis. He had a family then, a wife, a child, something of the perfect life. Tragedies and horrors like the Kaiju happened to other people, to other families, not his own.

At least, that was what he thought.

Just when things seemed as normal as they could get; evacuation, relocation, rebuild, the unthinkable happened. Thranduil lost his wife in an attack. And not even from collateral, but directly from the Kaiju, the damned thing crushing his wife as Thranduil scrambled to get their son, barely even five years old, out of the wreackage that formally their home. It was not a thing that the blond was ever going to forget. Or forgive for that matter.

So when the Jaeger program came up, there were no questions about it. Thranduil did everything in his power to get where he was, and his son, Legolas, following in his footsteps (he was too young to truly remember, but he knows his father, knows the scars it gave him, and he vows to not let the same happen to him). Thranduil figured that he would be compatible with his son, that they could, despite his misgivings, protect each other (he had tried arguing about the whole thing, but Legolas was his father's son, and there was no talking him out of something his mind was set on). And yet-- He son ended up with a Scot named Gimli, and Thranduil--

"You're a bloody idiot, you know."

There's probably still blood in his hair, and worry in his bones, but the blond ignores it to stare at his partner, Bard. The reckless, far too kind and far too humble pilot he was paired with. They were everything that Thranduil thought drift compatible people shouldn't be; they fought about everything, sniped at each other at every chance they got, and yet--

They were one of the best.

That still did nothing to quell the roiling feeling in Thranduil's gut when his eyes the stitches above Bard's brow. Remembers the echo of pain when he got it. The feeling of his stomach dropping to his knees at the blood in the cockpit, and the--

He dismisses the thoughts, focuses on the pilot before him.

"Do you mind explaining that little fiasco back there?" His tone is haughty, almost cold, but his eyes are ablaze.

"No, I didn't know. It's been quite some time since you've reminded me so I completely forgot."

It came out as a drawl and Bard didn't even bother to look away from their jaeger, having felt Thranduil's approach and knew that the other had that disapproving look on his face. They said it was a side effect of drifting, that residual connection that kept both pilots and jaeger tied to one another. Most said that it wasn't a real thing but Bard was inclined to think differently; especially when it came to his co-pilot. There were times when he could feel the emotions coming off Thranduil even when the other was keeping a blank face and other times he swore he could sense their jaeger even when he was nowhere near it.

"What fiasco?" he asked, finally looking at his co-pilot, head lifting off his folded arms as an eyebrow lifted. "I only did what needed to be done."

The kaiju had been a new category--stronger than any of the ones they'd faced before and smarter. The blow Bard had taken was meant for the opposite side of their jaeger--Thranduil's side--but he'd forced the other to move with him in a dodge and took the glancing blow that resulted.

But it had given them the chance to run the beast through with the built in blades on their jaeger's arms.

"Well let me remind you again, perhaps it will linger in your thoughts a while longer: you are a bloody idiot, Bard."

There is emphasis on his name, a lingering of Thranduil's voice that passes as annoyance with the roll of the 'r' in Bard's name. A sound that coincides with the raise of Thranduil's eyebrow that would signify far more to the other pilot than it would to anyone else. It was like that with them, this strange connection that Bard claimed was an affect of drifting. Thranduil was not so sure himself, but he was at least aware there was a connection.

Sometimes all that flowed through it was anger and muted annoyance, but there was a connection nonetheless.

A noise awfully close to a growl rumbles in Thranduil's throat as he steps closer to Bard. He knows what the other was doing, or had been doing, but he didn't really know why. It bothered him when Bard took a hit that Thranduil could easily have handled himself, no matter what the other might claim. Despite his looks, Thranduil was no weakling, he was more than capable in combat in and out of the suit. He also knew that Bard knew that having been his partner for many a sparring match.

This was not the first time that such a thing had happened, and Thranduil was sure that it was not to be the last, but what was the most infuriating thing was, despite the drift, the link that was between them, there was still so much that Thranduil was still not able to make sense of in his partner. They danced around each other constantly, with sharp looks and sharper words, and yet-- then they would both (for Thranduil was not innocent in this case at all) throw themselves in the way of harm for the other. It wasn't simply because they were drift compatible, not at all, there was something else and it drove the blond nearly mad with the need to know.

"I am not some maiden you need to save. There was nothing in that that had to be done." He pauses, eyes drifting to the cut above Bard's eye, something fleeting in his gaze before the annoyance is back. "You are lucky nothing more than the filth's death came from that unfathomably stupid move."

A heavy sigh escaped Bard as he felt the weight of Thranduil's annoyance, turning his gaze back to the robot before them, chin resting on his folded arms once more.

"I wouldn't call it being an idiot. I was looking out for my partner, Thranduil," he murmured, not having it in him right now to get as sharp and snarky as he might have any other time with his co-pilot. It was an odd dance between them, the way they bickered and tossed insults back and forth, said exchanges usually followed by some sort of caring gesture--whether it be taking a hit for one another or something as simple as keeping an eye on the other's child. (Or children in the case of Bard's little brood.)

He still couldn't put words to what he felt for his co-pilot, one part afraid to do so and another part just unsure. All he knew was that he hated the idea of Thranduil getting hurt, especially when he could do something to stop it.

"I'm well aware that you are capable of handling yourself but we are partners in this, Thranduil. Partners look out for one another and that blow would have been a lot worse had it hit you," he shot back though the lack of strength in his words was obvious. Bard truly didn't want to argue right now, not when his head throbbed and his entire body ached.

"Aye, I am. But we're both alive and that's what matters. So can we move past this already?"

The heavy sigh pulls an answering one from Thranduil. He was annoyed, yes, but there was something else, something that was clenching at Thranduil's heart that he refused to acknowledge. That is, beyond the fear of having to go through losing a partner while drifting together.

"Looking out for yourself would ease your partners mind a great deal more than this reckless need to put yourself in harms way." The blond loses a great deal of the anger in his voice, sensing how tired Bard was. He would say it just wasn't nearly as fun to irritate the other when his heart wasn't in it, but perhaps there was more to it. He leans against the railing, back to the robot and blue eyes focused on his shoes, mind racing. This was how it always was, a strange pushpull between them that often left Thranduil feeling as if he was one step behind something.

"I appreciate your concern, but if you think I am going to be any more pleased with you getting yourself killed in an attempt to look out for me, you have some serious reconsidering to do, Bard." His voice is perfectly neutral, the annoyance form earlier smothered, and the fear he might feel at the thought pushed away.

The blond holds out a bottle of pills, ones that he might have swiped without really asking, but he knows that the other must be in pain and, well, the is the least that he can do, and shakes it. "Do try not to do that again, yes? Otherwise, it is not going to be a thing that I move past so easily."

"...I'm sorry."

It was rare for him to apologize; to admit that he was wrong in any sort of situation because he was stubborn. Extremely stubborn. But when it came to Thranduil, it was hard for Bard to hold out sometimes and right now the last thing he wanted was for the other to be upset with him anymore than usual. Not when he was just glad that the other was unscathed after the battle.

"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured, glancing at the other, studying him for a moment with a hard to read look in his eyes. They were quite the pair weren't they? Dancing around one another the way they were.

It was kind of sad actually.

"....It would really bother you that much?" Bard murmured as he sat up a bit so he could reach and take the pills. His tone was one part teasing and one part questioning, unsure of which to completely go with.

The apology has Thranduil a little startled, eyes blinking as he tilts his head and considers the other's profile. This was another one of those things that always had Thranduil wondering just where it was that they stood. Sure, they were in each other's minds, knew more dark secrets than any one else, but there were still times, times like this, when Thranduil had no idea what it was that was going on with the other.

A moment of silence passes before the bond reaches out, one hand on Bard's shoulder, squeezing lightly, as acceptance of the words. He himself was not so sure what to say in response, so he left it at that.

Between that and the accepted pills, Thranduil hopes that some of the swirling chaos that are his emotions, Bard manages to see just why he is as annoyed as he is. Yes, they put themselves in danger's way every day, but there was no need to make it even worse, not by a long shot.

"That would be lovely, I can remind you if you would like, along with the you being an idiot part. We can't have you forgetting that, now can we?" There is a hint of a smile in his voice, eyes not quite meeting Bard's as they studied him.

It was ridiculous, this waltz they had going. At yet--

Thranduil snaps his gaze to Bard, eyebrow raised and sarcastic quip on the tip of his tongue. Would he be bothered... And then, then he sees the look on his partners face and something shakes loose inside him. The sarcasm falls away to a burning honesty. "Does it surprise you? I do not wish to see you in harm's way any more than I would my own child, Bard."

The touch was unexpected and, at the same time, not. He could sense the urge passing through the other and in the next moment his hand was there and Bard latched onto it--without really latching onto it of course--using it as an anchor to steady himself. There were a lot of different theories about those that drifted together and what happened when they came out of the drift but Bard definitely felt as though it was all re-solidified when partners were close or touching. The residual drift was stronger through touch than by any other means outside of the jaeger and he lived for that feeling, even if he rarely got it.

"Of course not. What a shame that would be for me to think that I was anything more than a fool," he drawled in return, playfully rolling his eyes but his own lips twitched into a smile.

For all the harsh words they tended to share, they could banter casually just as easily.

"...I feel the same, which is why I did what I did. The idea you getting hurt and not being able to do anything about it--" Bard stopped himself, tearing his gaze away from his partner to look at their jeager again. "...I didn't mean to worry you. I honestly just reacted--didn't even think about what I was doing. Just that I needed to keep you safe."

There was a sense of grounding when he was close to the other, and while he was not one to often touch, there were times, times like this, that Thranduil took the liberty to do what he could. He was sure this was an affect of the drift, of being so close, of being inside another so completely, that he found himself put at ease by the presence of the other. Even when they were slinging insults and arguing over the simplest of things (he could not, at points, figure out how Bard thought, despite spending so much time in his head). Right now, Thranduil still hand tendrils of annoyance (of fear) snaking through his veins, but they seemed to calm when his hand gripped the other.

He is reluctant to let it fall.

"As long as we are both on the same page. Perhaps once I get you to realize that, we can work on that hair of yours?" It was something that Thranduil liked to tease the other about; the tangled mess of near curls that adorned the other's head. Not that Thranduil disliked it, oh no, he just wished that Bard ran a damn brush through it once in a while.

The smile that had been crawling slowly across the blonds face falters at the honest words. He did not expect his own honesty to be met with such words. Thranduil leans over until his shoulder is against Bard's in a sign of camaraderie that was strange for him, surely if another were to see it they would question it. He keeps his eyes forward, much like Bard's on the jaeger.

"I know. I do, but do you not think of how I would feel if something were to happen to you, and your ridiculous hair, because of me?" The jab is weak, thrown in for the sake of it being there rather than for any other effect. Thranduil is in strange waters here, waters that he has been testing since he had been paired with the stubborn, talented pilot all those months ago.

Bard isn't about to object to the fact that Thranduil's hand stays where it is, relaxing under the weight of that hand.

"There is nothing wrong with my hair and it's not about to change anytime soon, Thranduil," the other pilot drawled, huffing lightly and making a show of being annoyed even if it was a weak show. He was too tired and too at ease to play the game well but hey, he could at least try. Light banter was nice.

His eyes stay focused on the jaeger though they widen, briefly, in surprise as he feels his partner lean against him. There's a moment where he does nothing and just listens, something twisting in his stomach before he lets out a quiet chuckle.

"I'm sorry," he admitted, relaxing and leaning into Thranduil in return. "I just..reacted. I was worried..scared even that something was going to happen to you and I just moved. I know you are quite capable of taking care of yourself, I've been working with you long enough to know that. But I just..."

He couldn't stand to see you hurt.

"I beg to differ, do you even know what a brush looks like?" Because the state of his hair would say otherwise. Thranduil moves his hand from Bard's shoulder to his hair, tugging on a straggly lock for emphasis. The fact that they had just been in the jaeger and in battle mattered little to him at this point, though even his own hair was looking a little worse for wear. What mattered really, was that Bard was okay, and perhaps that was why Thranduil was so touchy; it was reassurance.

He took comfort in the solid form next to him, the heat radiating form Bard almost as calming as sinking into the drift. Almost.

Thranduil huffs, not quite a laugh, almost more of a forceful exhale, at Bard's heartfelt apology. "Just keep the self sacrificial tendencies to a minimum, shall we?" There is unease between them, Bard's words stirring up the water in a way that they had been able to avoid for quite some time. Thranduil would be lying if he said he knew how to handle it. He was never any good at this kind of thing. "Despite your stubbornness and horrible sense of fashion, I would have no other pilot as my partner. I hope you know that."

They were a mess outside the cockpit most of the time, but Thranduil was more than okay with that.

"I am well aware of what a brush looks like and what a comb is. What's the point of constantly keeping it brushed when I most likely have to put a helmet on not long after?" he tossed back, frowning playfully as his hair is tugged on and he sways a bit with the pull. He understood the need to touch to make sure; to actually feel that another was alive before you could truly believe it.

Bard, himself, had done it several times with Thranduil during their past missions.

"I will do my best but I can't promise there won't be attempts at chivalry," the dark haired man drawled lightly but there was a note of seriousness there as well. It was hard not to protect his partner whenever he could. While Bard was a good pilot, Thranduil was just as good, if not better and his ability to handle himself in the drift was unmatched. So when it came down to it? One of them was more important than the other; at least in Bard's mind. He wasn't about to say those words outloud.

"What?"

He'd heard his partner speaking but the words didn't register right away, Bard looking at Thranduil as he sat up a bit and let it all sink in.

Oh.

"...I can't really imagine piloting with anyone else either."

The look you are getting right now could rust a jaeger, Bard. Thranduil cannot quite believe that such a thing could even begin to pass as an excuse, but at the same time, the blond is not at all surprised. He has known the other long enough to know what emphasis he puts on his looks. Which was a pity considering--

Thranduil shakes head had, dropping the hair from his fingers and snorting lightly. "We could terrify the kaiju right back to the portal with your helmet head." He pushes against Bard's temple lightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. He does not, despite knowing he should, pull back from the other.

Reassurance through contact was not a thing he usually initiated, but it was necessary after today.

"So long as you can then endure my ire, this should not be too much of a problem." It was not as if Thranduil was innocent of such acts himself, he was just a bit better at disguising his attempts. There was a control to Thranduil, something that he had worked on a great deal in order to become the pilot that he was today. And, no matter what Bard may think about who was more important, the blond would not agree. He had drifted with others before, piloted with them, and none came remotely close to Bard.

So when the other reacts with such surprise, Thranduil cannot help the brow that creeps upwards.

"You seem surprised. You are impossible I admit, but you are one hell of a pilot. I have drifted with many, few could match your skills. " He pushes himself off the rail, away from Bard. "And all but one had better hair." The infamous Thorin had hair that made Bard's look tame. That was also a disaster that, more or less, everyone in this shatterdome had heard about. Then again, they just might have heard the yelling matches between the two before they found more drift compatible partners.

Yeah, he's gotten really good at ignoring that look. Really good.

"It's hardly that bad! You, my dear co-pilot, are exaggerating which is very unbecoming," Bard scoffed, head tilting some at the push but he doesn't try to move away and his lips may just be twitching into a slight grin. "You should practice being more restrained with your reactions, Thranduil."

The dark haired man can't help but look a little amused despite the odd..warm feeling he's feeling deep inside, easily covering it with a lifted brow of his own.

"Again with insulting my hair. You were doing so good stroking my ego and then you had to insult me once more," he said through a sigh. "How are we ever going to manage to drift again if you keep this up?" The answer was quite easily because in reality, they were one of the best pairs and everyone knew it. Bard never clung to it much; he was just doing what needed to be done, but having the respect of those around him wasn't a bad thing either.

"....I'm glad we ended up piloting together, to be completely honest. I'm not sure my last partner and I would have been able to survive this long."

Pity about that, Thranduil is going to have to get better looks then, ones that are not lost on the other pilot. Can't have him thinking he was above those looks, oh no.

"I do not think that I am exaggerating in the lest, there might actually be kaiju in your hair as we speak, and no one would be the wiser for it." It was nice, to be able to do this; a restrained banter that did not end in raised voices and simmering anger. And while it did not happen often, Thranduil tried to make it happen more often. It was not his fault that the other was so infuriating most of the time. "And I shall become restrained when you learn what a brush is."

The twitch of his lips means that he is clearly lying. There is little way that he would become restrained in anything that he did, aside from control his emotions. That, for him, was a constant must. He could not afford to be hurt as he once was ever again.

NOt even if, on occasions, he wished to trust the man beside him.

"I am not insulting, merely telling you the truth that you do not wish to hear. That is not an issue that I must come to terms with. " He raised an eyebrow, bright blue caught on the lines and angles of Bard's figure before shaking himself from his idle observance. " I dare say that, compared to that time you completely disregarded all textbook rules and nearly got yourslef killed attempting to defend the boarder, this is nothing."

Is there still some bitterness there? Why yes, there is. He does not, though he may not say it, want to lose you, Bard. He has never been able to drift or pilot so well with any other, and if him chewing you out after a particularly reckless move will keep you alive a day longer, even if it's mad at him, he shall do it.

There is a hand on Bard's shoulder as Thranduil plans to leave. He gives the other a rare smile, quirk of his lips if anything. " I fear that, if it were not for you, I would not have survived this long. So perhaps I owe you a thanks."

"If Kaiju were small enough to fit in my hair, I doubt we would have any issues dealing with them," Bard drawled, a chuckle lacing the words despite how much he was trying to sound put off, shaking his head at Thranduil's antics. It was rare that they had moments like these, moments that were so light hearted but he was starting to enjoy them more than he could admit out loud. Outside of his children, he didn't have anyone else and then his co-pilot had come along and wormed his way in.

Funny how those things work.

"I do what needs to be done to save lives, that's all, Thranduil. Sometimes the rules get in the way." He at least had the decency to look a little bit guilty as he said it but he would, without any hesitation, do it all over again if the situation arose. That was just how he was and Thranduil knew that better than any at this point. Bard always put others before himself and had joined up as a pilot more than ready to lay his life down if he had to. Hopefully it never came to that but if it did...

He glances up when the hand rests on his shoulder and the blonde's words hit something inside him and Bard doesn't hesitate more than a moment before he lifts a hand to rest it over his co-pilot's.

"It's in the job description to look out for your co-pilot. And I suppose I may see you as something of a friend, god knows how that happened," he teased gently, a soft look in his gaze.

"You never know, we would have to find it first in order to deal with it. And, in that mess..." He trails off, finger tangling in the locks once more for emphasis. It was strange for him to be so inclined to touch, to cross that line that was drawn so clearly between them. Between Thranduil and everyone else really. And yet--

There was always a chink in the armour, wasn't there? As much as Thranduil might wish otherwise, there was. He could not expect to drift with someone, to protect someone's back and know their innermost thoughts without growing at least somewhat attached to them. Much to his chagrin. This was not something that Thranduil ever wanted, but he was finding it harder and harder to fight it.

I do what needs to be done makes Thranduil close his eyes, hand dropping away from the brunet. Those words terrified him, because he knew the other man and knew that he meant it, no matter what Thranduil might try to convince him of otherwise. "Maybe you should do what it takes to live, Bard. For yourself and for others. I dare say you are worth far more alive, horrible hair and all, than you are a martyr."

The blond looks at the hand on his own and, in a strange moment of bravery (foolishness?) he toes at their line a little harder. "Come then, Bard of the Kaiju hair, let us drink away that headache I am sure you are currently suffering from."

Bard just snorted softly in response, an undignified response but the other's antics were amusing in a way that stunned him to a loss for words. He enjoyed how open the other was being with touch and it..while it crossed that line that had always been there between them, he didn't mind. It was the nature of the drift and, well, perhaps there was something more to it as well though Bard had yet to really be able to grasp it.

His gaze shifted to the other when he spoke again and the weight of those words struck something inside him. He knew that Thranduil was right, that he did need to stop being so foolhardy in the way he acted and rash in his decision making but it was hard to let go of those impulses when he wanted nothing more than to protect those he cared for.

But if he died, he wouldn't be able to protect them, now would he?

The dark haired man is pulled from those thoughts when the blonde toes that line again and the surprise flickers over his expression once more before a huff of a laugh escapes him.

"A drink does sound rather amazing right now," Bard murmured and shifted to rise from where he had been seated, squeezing the other's hand before slowly letting go so he could stand all the way. "And I may be just a little interested to see how much it takes to loosen you up, my dear co-pilot~" he added in a tease, grin soft and playful as he motioned for the other to lead the way.

There is nothing more that Thranduil wants than such a simple response. It speaks to him of a level of comfort that he knows Bard allows to few; he feels blessed to be one of those few. It was the same in return in truth there were few that Thranduil would cross that line with; few he would deem worthy of getting to know in any sense. Bard was, of the living, the only one. Even the ghosts of his past could not make Thranduil regret his actions.

It pleases the blond to note that his words have some effect on the other, that he considers the worth of his life rather than of his death. Thranduil understands the need to protect, the urge that consumes Bard, not only because they drift, but because he himself has it. Yet he also knows the weight that death brings, even in the name of protection. That is not something he wishes upon anyone.

Eyeing the brunet, Thranduil is pleased, for the moment, with that realization that he sees flicker in green eyes. He would like more, something more tangible than realization, but he knows that he will not get it now. Perhaps he never will, but he could hope.

Hope that flickers to life in his chest when Bard takes him up on his offer, the spontaneous thing that he thought so little of, but now was quite looking forward to. The blond nearly grins at the words, blue eyes amused at the thought. "It may upset you know know, that I am not the easiest to ply with liquor. " He turns, ponytail swinging with the movement. "I dare say that almost sounds like you wish to see me inebriated, Bard." He returns the teasing tone, flicker of a smile as he looks behind him.

You never know, Thranduil. You might get it eventually. For now, though, Bard is just going to dwell on those thoughts and really think it all over. He has a lot that he needs to take into consideration and re-think at the moment.

"Now why would I ever want to see you inebriated?" the dark haired man mused as he trailed along behind his co-pilot, taking in that flicker of a smile and returning it with one of his own. The weight that had been bearing down on him was easing now in the face of Thranduil's worry and kindness, that line between them starting to blur again and Bard wasn't..feeling as inclined as he usually might to edge away from it. Right now, he just wanted a relaxing night and, outside of his children, he couldn't think of anyone else he'd want to spend it with.

Which was becoming a more common thing, as of late. At first he'd blamed it on the 'ghost drifting' that others spoke about, calling it a mere fluke in the system, but he was starting to find that, as time passed, he really did just want to be around his co-pilot more. He found himself drawn to the individual that was underneath that act that Thranduil tended to put up at times and Bard wanted nothing more than to figure out how to draw said side of the other out more often.

This seemed like a good start.

"You know, considering you're the one that suggested drinks, maybe its you that wants to see me a bit on the wasted side. Scandalous, Thranduil. Scandalous."

Perhaps he would, but it was best not to bet things of importance upon it. Thranduil, for all his intelligence, was not always the brightest when it came to things that involved emotions. He was a fighter, had put up more walls since the beginning of this war than most, and he would take longer than most to tear them down.

For now, he would enjoy what he had, whether it was the ghost of the drift or not, and see where it lead him. Drinks would always help. The blond smirks over his shoulder at his partner, amusement in the arch of his brow. "Perhaps you would like to hear my melodious voice sing? I have been told it is something ethereal." Or perhaps he just wants to tease the other, to see what he could elicit with words and small smiles. Things that he was not, usually, inclined to share with the other.

Perhaps, Thranduil thought, he should try for such things more often if the coy smile that crept across the others face was any indication. They did not usually banter in such a way, with nothing but the threads of connection humming between them. It was... liberating for the blond. He tried so hard to keep his walls up, to keep all but his son at bay. This-- This was different.

But not unwanted.

Thranduil nearly looks scandalized at the accusation, mouth twitching. "Is that what you think of me? That I would stoop to such levels? My, Bard, I think I may be hurt." He pauses, head tilting. "A little bit. Perhaps."

"Well I definitely wouldn't be object to that, though I have to wonder if this apparently ethereal praise has only been given by those too drunk to know better," he teased, well aware that the other was actually a really good singer but hey, he had to throw out some jabs of his own. His oldest daughter had made the comment--several times actually--that the only way the two of them knew how to communicate was through masked insults and he'd denied it.

But..well..maybe she was right. To some extent. Though, it was really more like masked..flirting on Bard's end. Bad flirting, but flirting all the same.

Catching up to the other properly and falling in step beside him, Bard rolled his eyes playfully. "Perhaps it is. You aren't making me think otherwise," he replied in mock offense though there was a grin once more playing at his lips at the sight of that scandalized look. "Maybe you just want some blackmail on me, something to use against me when you feel the need. I know how crafty you can be, my dear."

For some reason the word 'co-pilot' didn't follow that statement and the dark haired man's expression flickered into something confused and a bit shocked, his gaze anywhere but Thranduil all of a sudden.

"Some co-pilot you are," he drawled, trying to take it all back to banter.

"I wonder, is that jest or do you truly wish to hear me sing?" He gives the other a grin, tossing blond hair over his shoulder. "You need only ask and I would indulge you, you know. " Which, for most, was not a truth. Thranduil was not one that would sing for no reason and it was only through very few drunken evenings and even rarer moments where someone had snuck up on him that others had ever even heard his voice. Though, for Bard, perhaps he would be more easily swayed.

Their exchanges, no matter how fuelled by anger or frustration, annoyance or irritation, Thrnaduil was well aware that the other brought about in him a level of emotion that far surpassed that of anyone else. And, it spoke volumes to-- to something, that his co pilot managed to draw from him not only ire but something that spoke of amusement. Of fondness in his own way. His son was quick to hide knowing smiles when Thranduil ranted about the other, a trait his mother would often indulge in when she knew, knew so much more than Thranduil.

It made his heart ache, but it also made him wonder what more there was to this connection.

"And what would I have to do to make you think otherwise, I wonder?" Not that he would. Perhaps it would be nice to see Bard without the suit of armour, to have them both, not in a jaeger and in each other's minds, but as people in each other's company.

Thranduil has a response on his lips, something playful and terribly out of character, but he is stopped by the endearment. My dear echoing in his head a moment longer than perhaps it should have. It is lost when Bard continues, but Thranduil will not forget it, forget the constriction in his chest at such a simple thing.

If he faltered, Thranduil regained his composure quickly, jabbing an elbow into the other's ribs. "I am one of the best, and you know it, darling." It's daring and crossing a line, but there is just enough sarcasm laden in the word, that Thranduil is willing to risk it.

"Would you now? I'll have to keep that in mind, maybe ask at the most inappropriate moment just to see if you'll do it," Bard teased but he did have ever intention of asking sometime. He was curious now and truly did want to hear the other's voice. He knew it was rare for the blonde to indulge others in anything and it made his heart swell a bit--as cheesy as that might sound.

Those looks Thranduil got from his son were probably quite similar to the ones Bard's oldest daughter gave him, Sigrid not at all shy in making comments and giving her father knowing looks. It was a bit unnerving how good she was at picking up on things but Bard himself was generally not a fool in most matters so it was no surprise Sigrid had picked up that trait.

He tried to reply, had a reply in mind even but he was a bit too flustered by his own slip to get it out quick enough. Next thing Bard knew, Thranduil was elbowing him and--

Oh.

Well.

The dark haired man swayed a bit before he leaned into Thranduil, bumping their shoulders together as he grinned a bit.

"Do I though? I mean, that Thorin bloke is a fairly good pilot..." Bard drawled before he ducked away before he could be swatted at, turning to walk backwards in front of the other. "You're one of the best, I'm well aware of that. I wouldn't have you at my side if you weren't."

"I am most inclined to indulge you, Bard. Not guaranteed to indulge you. I would hope that, by this point, you are well aware of how carefully cultivated my demeanour is. I am not about to go putting cracks in it in the name of kindness." There is an edge to his voice; a fight in Thranduil's self as to just what he means and what he is saying. Surely he would not indulge the other in circumstances that would not benefit his own reputation? And yet, the blond was not so sure about that.

He could only hope that the words, said in a defensiveness that Thranduil could not quite explain, were taking in the wrong manner. It had taken them far too long to get to this point, it would be a pity that some ill thought words ruined it.

Especially when Bard says nothing of his comment, merely sways into him and gives Thranduil a bit more of the contact, a bit more grounding after the events of the day and steadies the blond even more. Perhaps he should try to reign in his temper more often if this was the result.

Then again, maybe not.

Thranduil growled, swiping (and missing, bloody reflexes) at Bard for the Thorin comment. If there was one human being that Thranduil could not stand, it was Thorin Oakenshield. The glower does not leave his face, even as Bard begins to walk before him; eyebrows in a stern line and face the perfect picture of annoyed. "He is a curse upon this institution and we are lucky he hasn't personally invited a kaiju into the Shatterdome yet."

That is a jest. Mostly. But it does encompass just how Thranduil felt about the other. " You are so very, very lucky that I like you, Bard. Very lucky."

"See, that right there definitely helps keep those cracks at bay, my dear," Bard taunted playfully, tsking softly as he tucked his arms behind his back as he kept walking backwards. "All the more reason you should sing for me sometime. I'd simply have to mention Thorin sometime afterward and no one would know any wise that you had shown me a softer side."

His grin is full of mirth and maybe just a bit of adoration because he did so love to push Thranduil's buttons sometimes.

"I suppose I am. For more reasons than you not strangling me though," he added in a thoughtful manner, his eyes soft as his grin turned to a smile before he was turning to walk correctly. It hit him how much he was pushing it and a part of him was now worried that maybe it was too much too soon. Internally he cursed himself, glancing upwards for a moment as he berated himself, hoping that Thranduil would take it all in stride as usual.

He didn't mind stepping over that line but there was no point in moving so quickly; in attempting to do something too quickly and ruining any chance he might have.

An eyebrow goes up at that, a clear indication as to what Thranduil thinks of Bard's teasing. And yet, there was still a softness to the action, something less harsh and judgemental than what might usually cross his features if someone annoyed him with such taunts. "As it should, you are a menace, Bard. A menace." There is a glower at the mention of Thorin again, the disdain that the blond held for the other something he could not always express in words. "You mention him too often and I might just start associating this burning hatred with you."

It is not a truth by any means; the differences between the two pilots was staggering and, for a moment, Thranduil nearly feels something like remorse for making the comparison. But he says nothing, and finds his ire diminishing in the face of Bard's grin. He reaches out to swat at the other, the sad attempt at violence a bridge almost.

"I am not sure of that, I doubt that I could strangle you. Though the whole kaiju in your hair idea could be an entertaining way to plot your demise if I so wished." Not that he would. There were few he wished such things upon and Bard-- Bard was not one of them.

This exchange, as strange as it was, was also liberating. He had not felt so connected outside of the drift in a very long time to anyone aside his own son. The blond side eyes Bard, mouth twitching slightly. "So what of yourself, shall I be serenaded if I ply you with the correct drink? Or shall my ears bleed?"

"A menace? Me? Hardly!" Bard mused before he outright laughed, playfully rolling his eyes. "You could never hate anyone with that same burning hatred you have for Thorin, my dear. It would take too much time away from your glaring at and insulting him."

He wasn't offended by the comparison in the least, obviously, taking it all in stride as he kept walking only to find himself being swatted again. The brunette ducks slightly and makes a pained sound though it's all in good fun as he mock pouts at the other.

"You are so mean to me, Thranduil. So abusive and mean," he mused before his expression melted into one of mock irritation and he ran a hand through his hair as if making a point. "My hair is just fine! See? No Kaiju. I'm fairly certain I would know if I had one nesting. Maybe the beards of a few individuals need to be checked instead."

They're walking side by side again and there's hardly any space between them, not that Bard wanted it that way or noticed. No, never. Why would he ever purposefully walk so close to the other pilot, hm?

"Trust me when I say it would be wise to stop me before I start singing," he drawled, side eyeing the other, unable to help the grin that appears. "I've never been able to carry a tune. I'm sure I can think of other endearing things to do in an attempt to win you over."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Pacific Rim AU for my dear Thranduil~

SCREAMS ABOUT THIS FOREVER quietly whispers about needed to watch this again now

I need to watch it again too. IT'S BEEN TOO LONG

saME HEREEEE

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horrible image of thranduil singing to a dying/injured bard. stop me

asjdahksjdsa ;-;

Re: asjdahksjdsa ;-;

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