White Blood ➵ LotR/Lord of the Rings

xxviii.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rohan

It wasn't the first night she had been unable to sleep and left her room, but it was the first night he found her there.

Ninimben hadn't slept well since the Battle of the Five Armies. Night was when the monsters climbed out of the closets or, in her case, her mind. They leeched upon her, feeding on her sanity and her happiness until she could toss and turn all night but certainly not fall asleep.

She didn't even try to sleep when she had those nights now. She gave up instantly and left for a change in scenery, preparing herself for a difficult several hours to come, with no one for company but her own, damaging thoughts.

It was the third day in a row of such terrible nights, and she was feeling the effects: each movement felt like she was dragging her body through mud and her eyes kept threatening to flutter closed, her brain moving at a snail's pace. She hoped an Orc attack wouldn't happen the next day: she wouldn't be much use at all should that happen.

There was a dying fire in Rohan's hall, which Ninimben liked to curl up beside and watch. Focusing on the dying embers provided a minute distraction against the voices in her head, and the memories that came with them. She sat with her knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them: whether she was trying to hug herself for some form of comfort or was providing a barrier against the world, Ninimben wasn't sure.

"What are you doing up this late?"

Ninimben blinked drowsily, too tired to even be too shocked. She rolled her head back to find Eomer had walked into the room, and was watching her with a concerned frown on his face.

Ninimben sighed. "Can't sleep."

Eomer walked to her side and rested a hand on her head. "You're pale as a ghost, Nim - you look almost ill," he whispered. "That's not normal for you, is it?"

"It's not. But I'm not surprised. I barely sleep anymore. It's cold and... it's when all the negative thoughts come back. It scares me." She shivered, chuckling weakly. "I'm just like a child afraid of the dark. Pathetic, right?"

She expected scorn, she expected him to sigh. But instead, Eomer shook his head, and moved his hand so it held her own. "Trauma isn't pathetic, Nim," he said gently. He tugged on her hand, pulling her to her feet. "Come on."

"Sleep isn't going to come to me just because you dragged me to my room," Ninimben said, with a lazy roll of her eyes, as she allowed Eomer to lead her on.

"I wasn't going to do that – at least, leave you on your own. Would it help if I stayed with you?"

Ninimben blinked. "I – I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking. I'm offering. Can't I be concerned about my friend?"

Ninimben flushed, her argument dying on her tongue. For one, she was too drained to put up much of a fight in the first place: the effort was already giving her a faint headache. And two... she couldn't deny the offer was tempting. That she wanted nothing more than to accept, and to not be on her own for once.

"Fine," she huffed, but she was smiling.

That night, Ninimben fell asleep with Eomer by her side, the two barely touching, but the warmth radiating from his body and his mere presence enough to make her breath come a little bit easier.

From then on, when the ghosts of the past haunted her too much, she sought Eomer's comfort. It was easier for her to fall asleep near his warmth, as she could imagine that chased the coldness away, kept the memories from escaping their hold.