Imogen was close, close to figuring something out. Something that would stop this from ever happening again. She's not sure if she could handle that, handle another dream of her friends dying, sooner or later it'll send her into madness.
After Sir Bertrand died, after she watched him die, Lord Eshteross gave them full access to his library. With a Evelyn guiding them of course, apparently certain books also contained traps.
So she'd grabbed as many as she could on everything from dreams, precognitions, patrons, hell she even took anything involving the anatomy of the brain. Some she'd read before, still, Imogen took them anyway. What if she'd missed something?
Imogen honestly wasn't sure how long she'd been sat at Zhudanna's dining room table, scouring over the stack of books, enough time the sun had long since set. She could feel the edges of a headache peeking in, the possibility of overwhelming whispers causing her to take pause.
Well, that and a dead rat with a raven skull suddenly sitting on one of the books, long red tendrils leading up and over to where Laudna was surely standing. Imogen couldn't help the smile that slips on her lips.
"Pâté, what're you doing here?" She asks, looking into the empty sockets where eyes would normally be.
"Laudna thinks you should come to bed!" He says in that ridiculous accent, "It's almost morning and you need to get your rest!" She can't help the huff of a laugh that comes out as Pâté actually points at her with his little rat fingers.
Imogen lets her head fall back, as expected she's met with Laudna's wiry, boney, frame. "You're getting better at that."
The tethers from her fingers disconnect as her unnaturally long arm reaches forward to retrieve what had been her only friend for years, safely hooking him to her belt.
"Thank you, but you should be resting." To most, her current face might look startling, but Imogen knew. She's worried. Laudna's seen what happens when she stays awake all night, the way the voices tear through her mind, leaving her curled up in bed with tears in her eyes. "Please darling, come back to bed?"
Imogen looks over the scattering of books, the hastily scrawled notes, even the candle that was only a few minutes from flickering out. She should sleep, really she should... "I'm afraid," She finally admits, looking up into mostly black eyes. "what if I have another dream? What if I see someone else die? Ashton has so many enemies here they could-"
"Hey, they have Fresh Cut Grass with them, they're some sort of healer..." Imogen watched Laudna's brows furrow in thought, they usually did when it came to the automaton, she clearly had some sort of curiosity on how they were even alive.
"Still, Sir Bertrand was a seasoned fighter. Laudna you didn't see it, he died so easily." She had to calm down, she was getting too worked up, just another invite for the voices.
"I know Darling," Laudna starts, that gentle tone she only uses for Imogen, "but you won't be much help if you're sleep deprived." Imogen slouches, looking forward again, she has a point, she knows that much, but still. No one knew. "You can sleep with me if you'd like? I don't need much sleep so if you start to have a nightmare I'll wake you, we can message everyone and see if they're okay." And then fingers are running through her hair, despite the long nails, it's unfairly gentle. "How does that sound Darling?"
It would be okay, Laudna's here, they'd protect each other. "Okay." She gives a shallow nod, "Let's get some rest."
They'd slept next to each other before while traveling, looking for resources, but this felt different. Laudna held her close, she's cold, Imogen has ideas why but they don't matter much, it felt nice in the heat of Marquette.
In all reality, it should be entirely uncomfortable curling into Laudna, she's the definition of skin and bones, smells slightly off, but Imogen can't help but find it comforting. The way long fingers, tipped with sharp nails, ran through her hair with such softness and ease helped lull her to sleep.
That night there were no dreams, no nightmares, just pure darkness. Imogen always preferred it that way, far more peaceful than the other two, than stressing if they meant something.