It's almost ironic, really; perhaps part of the reason he's angry is that he wasn't there for them to sacrifice himself. It's not that she stole his thunder, but Steve had a proven track record of being the one to lay himself down if it was necessary. It's why he'd put the Valkyrie in the ice--why he'd told Hill to blow the helicarrier even while he was still aboard. Steve had joined the army because he wanted to save people, and his teammates suffering and dying only served to make him feel like he wasn't strong enough, or not working hard enough to protect them.

More than his own personal failings, he's angry because his friend--one of the few people he'd truly grown close to in the twenty-first century--is gone forever. Just like the Commandos, just like Peggy, even like Bucky, who he might never see again. He's alive to be angry, sure, but he feels more alone now than he ever has.

If his arm swipes over his face, it's only because he wants to wipe sweat from his brow. There are no tears stinging his eyes.

"There was a point where I didn't entirely trust her," Steve admits, breezing right along. "She actually was a spy before she joined my team, and she liked to keep things close to the chest. Then we ended up on the run together when everyone wanted to kill us, and... that can change your perspective on things."

Steve looks over at Éomer and smiles in that endearingly earnest way of his.

"I know you've lost people too. It's never easy."