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."