Respect My Soul.

“No, no. Isildurs fingers wrapped around your wrist, tilting it ever so slightly, “you must block like this. The tilt gives you the advantage to push in. It gives you easier access to defend more of your body. Having the sword straight up will make you more vulnerable.”

You nodded following his example. You'd been at this for a few hours with him. He'd been insistent when he found you were going on the expedition back to your homeland. He knew that the main reason you were going was that Halbrand was making the trip as well, but you had offered your skills as a healer. He couldn't stomach sending you into a battlefield without you having some combat knowledge.

“That's a good girl,” he commented with a laugh as you blocked several of his attempts. “But watch your feet. You have to be ready to move to either side.”

He stopped again. “Bend your knees like this,” he demonstrated the position he was talking about. “That way, you'll be ready for whatever movement you may need to make.”

You nodded and copied his position, and then you were back to practicing, trying to use everything he had taught you. He'd give you praise when you blocked or got a hit, offer advice when you missed. The light around you was dimming, and you were making progress. He was genuinely proud of the progress you made.

“One more go, alright, then I have to get some food or I fear I'll perish.” He commented, his heart soaring at the sound of your laugh.

The sound of the wooden swords hitting each other as you practiced filled the street. Suddenly, you went to block, and he was able to twirl you away, bringing you into his sword and against his chest.

“I win,” he laughed before noticing how close you were to him. He could see every freckle on your face, every faint scar from childhood, the different specs of color that made up your eyes. The air felt hot and crushing around him. He hated how gorgeous you were and how his mind would wander to a world that couldn't be.

A world where, in this instance, he could kiss you.

He he held your gaze, he didn't know for how long but then his eyes wandered down to your lips and he saw how soft they looked. He wandered if they were. He wondered if things were different, would you allow him to kiss you.

The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

“I wish a could kiss you.”

And with those words, you backed away, dropping your sword and staring at him for a moment. He could tell you didn't know what to do or say, that your mind was thinking over everything. He adored his friendship with you, just as much as he did you, and he knew those words would cause a conflict in you that might destroy that friend ship.

“I need to go,” you mumbled softly before swiftly turning on your heels and making your way down the dark streets of Numenor.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath and quickly followed you.

Perhaps you'd stop, and he could explain. If not, he simply needed to make sure you made it to your accommodations safely. There were plenty of Numenorians who supported this venture, but there were plenty who were not and blamed you and your companions. Some even resented you. Some threatened violence. And while Isildur could understand wanting to punch Halbrand in the face, he would not allow that harm to come to you.

“Wait, come on, just wait. Please.” He called after you, his feet carrying them after you.

Why did Elros put so many damn stairs in this city?

He feared he lost you. You were much faster than he suspected. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, a chorus of curses chanting in his mind. It was when he heard your voice from a street over that he calmed, but when he registered what you said in his mind, his blood ran cold, and he saw red.

“Please, I didn't do anything. I swear.”

You sounded scared. You sounded hurt. He'd never run so fast in his life, and the sight he saw made any semblance of calm or common sense leave his mind. A group of 3 men, all Isildurs age, and you, with a fresh cut on your face.

“I suggest you all step the fuck back,” he moved stand between them and you, his hand wrapping around your wrist to keep you behind him.

They all snickered, “and what will you do, elf lover?”

The words had only left the man's mouth and Isildur had grabbed him by the back of the head, smashing into his knee. Once. Twice. Three times before any of the mans friends got involved. It was a cacophony of curses, fists, and the crushing of bones. You had pressed your back to the wall with your eyes shut tight as it all transpired.

“I suggest you leave before I break your nose like I did both of your weak, pathetic friends.” Isildur hissed, his nose was bleeding as was his mouth, but he stood there with the others shirt in his fist as his companions sat on the ground worse for wear than Isildur was.

When the man didn't respond, Isildur growled and yanked his shirt harder. “Brave enough to strike a woman, but cowardice overtakes you now? You are pathetic. A disgrace to Numenor. The valar look on you and despair.” He pushed the other away from him.

“Leave now.”

He watched and waited for them to leave before turning to you. He limped towards you, examining your face. “Are you okay?”

“Me?!” You ask exasperated, staring at his beaten body. “Are you okay?”

“I'll survive.”

~

Less than an hour later, you were seated in his room. His home wasn't far from the attack, and he sat in silence as you tended to his wounds. He watched your face intently, the adrenaline from before had worn off for both of you and the weight of the words he spoke had started to wear on you both.

The silence had been awful for him. Normally, he'd make you laugh, or there was some witty back and forth between the two of you. You’d become a close friend in a short time. His feelings for you wereones he tried to swallow and hide, but he failed.

“I'm sorry.” He decided to break the silence first. “I never meant for you to be caught in the middle of something you never asked for.”

You silently wiped blood from his chin before sitting back and away from him. “I do not wish to hurt anyone's feelings.”

He smiled sadly, looking at his lap, “I will be honest with you, my feelings are hurt all the time. You are so, obviously in love with another man, and I do find comfort in the fact that you are happy and that he returns your love.”

He swallowed thickly, “I want you to be happy, truly. You are my friend, and I do not wish you any ill, but I know what I feel in my heart, and some days, it simply aches.”

You looked down, your lip quivering, and he felt an immense amount of guilt. He saw you part your lips to speak, and he put his hand on your knee to stop you.

“You do not need to apologize or feel guilt. I do not blame you as you have done nothing wrong. I said before, and I mean it, your friendship is not a consolation prize. It is an honor. Truly. I value our friendship more than I can say.”

You looked at him, swallowing thickly, “There's nothing wrong with you, Isil. You are funny and brave and loyal. You are a good friend and a good man.”

He smiled again, of course you would comfort him in this moment. You were simply that kind of person, and that's why he adored you so. “I'm also incredibly attractive.”

You laughed softly, wiping at your eyes.

“I should not have said it,” he spoke sincerely once more, “That was unfair to you. I hope that we can move past this. I hope we can still be friends.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “I've never had a friend like you before. I just do not wish to hurt you.”

He shook his head. Did you not know you were a rose? He'd grasp tight the thorny stem if it meant he got to view the blossom. “I am fine. I will be fine.”

You wet your lips and nodded, picking at the skin of your palm.

“Truly, don't worry. The women of Middle Earth will be throwing themselves at my feet after I save them from the orc scourge. I will have to fight them off, me and Berek may not make it back.”

You laughed softly, “You are a strange man.”

“You are a strange woman. You show up to our shores with an elf and the long-lost king of the southlands. Your friends assault our people, commit treason, and you start yelling explectives in our streets.”

You glared at him, and he couldn't help but laugh. Relief flooded his body as things settled back to normal, and he escorted you home. His heart did ache when he saw you with him but a part of him knew there was more to come between the two of you, weather a deeper bond of friendship or romance, he did not know.