White Blood ➵ LotR/Lord of the Rings

vii.

Chapter Seven
Hollin

The number of patrols from the Enemy over the past two weeks alone worried Ninimben.

She sat on her own, secluded from the others of Rohan in an empty room, as had become her habit ever since she settled in Rohan. Mingling with the other Men of Rohan brought back memories of her time with Thorin's Company, memories she would rather forget. Besides, being on her own gave her some time to think and collect her thoughts, and reflect on what was happening – including the increased number of enemy attacks.

She had suspected that enemy patrols were becoming more frequent in Middle Earth, having spotted them more and more over the recent years. Being still in one place, however, made her realise just how unstable the peace was. It could only mean that Sauron was gaining power once more, and that left her feeling sick to her stomach.

Ninimben groaned and leaned her head back. It was times like this, despite her attempts not to, that she yearned for Thorin's presence. He'd had a way of getting her to focus, be still, and not think years into the future. Or Fili and Kili – they'd been able to distract her by making her laugh, so caught up in their youth and constant excitement that the world's problems melted away for long periods of time.

"If not for joining us in battle, I would have thought you had left us."

Ninimben looked up and saw Eomer enter the room. She looked away again and blinked rapidly, clearing the mist in her eyes. "I don't feel like company."

"You know, the men would be less anxious around you if they knew you a little," Eomer suggested with a grin. He pulled up a seat beside her. "They'd be able to trust you more that way."

Ninimben shrugged. "It doesn't bother me what others think."

"I don't think so. I've noticed the way you frown when the men look away from you – you want to be included. Why not show your face every now and then?"

Ninimben licked her lips. Because every time I'm in a large company, it reminds me of those I've lost.

It was the full truth, but one she rarely acknowledged – or even tried to understand. How could she describe to strangers that every time she was among a group, she thought of her old Dwarven friends? How did she explain that she was scared to get close to any one of them because she'd done that before, and almost faded because of it?

She didn't even want to think about it.

"The last time I had company, it didn't work out," she said, more snappily than she intended. She twisted her body a little further away from Eomer. "That's all you need to know."

Eomer fell silent.

"You know... We heard stories of the reclaiming of Erebor," he said, slowly. "There was mention of a single Elf from Mirkwood that was among the Company."

Ninimben stiffened.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she glared, already feeling her walls being thrown up, challenging Eomer to say more. To call her out. To impose his perspectives on her coping mechanisms and critique her, like so many others had done. Her eyes shifted about the room, searching for the most convenient exit.

But Eomer only smiled gently, patient, willing to wait.

"You don't have to tell me everything, Ninimben," he said quietly, "Or anything at all. But I am your ally here. I wish to help you. Even get to know you a little."