"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."