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?"