Things continued to be busy for many days in Edoras, but the merchants finally came and Kiana was able to get what she needed. Upon completing the rug for the family upon the western hill, she spent most of her time working on the tapestry in Meduseld. It would take her nearly a fortnight to complete the repairs, but it gave her time to spend with Éomer and Éowyn. As much joy as that brought her, however, her worries about the young lord only grew the more exhausted he looked. He never complained and always told her that he was fine, so she didn't press the issue.
One night, though, she herself was having a difficult time sleeping and wasn't sure why. She decided to go for a walk about town, hoping some fresh air would help. As she opened her door, she stopped in surprise when she saw Éomer just outside of her home as though he had just turned away.
"Éomer?"
Éomer turned back towards her, just as surprised to see her up at such a late hour. "I am surprised to see you up so late, Kiana."
"As I am of you," she stepped outside, closing the door behind her and pulling her cloak tight around her. "What brings you here at this hour? Is everything alright?" When he didn't really answer, she looped her arm through his and pulled him along as they walked. "I was having trouble sleeping, so I thought perhaps a walk would help," she commented, mostly just to fill the silence.
Éomer fell in step beside her, grateful that she took the lead in that moment.
"What seems to be troubling you?" Kiana asked. "Is it the nightmares?"
Éomer nodded. "It's a recurring one..."
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"As much as I appreciate the offer, I will have to decline this time."
"That's understandable," Kiana conceded. "Though my offer will always stand, should you change your mind."
They continued to walk a bit more in silence, then a thought occurred to Kiana and she broke the silence to offer the young lord a bit of advice.
"Éomer, perhaps you need to look at what in the nightmare bothers you the most and why. Identifying the problem helps to find the solution."
Éomer knew she was right, but it would not be an easy task to complete. He remained silent as she continued.
"It's hard, though, sometimes. Recognizing what the problem is forces us to confront our fears, our guilt, our anger, and so much more that we would much rather avoid. There's a semblance of importance in our dreams, and sometimes they bring us messages. Perhaps coming to terms with whatever is haunting you will help bring the nightmares to an end, even help you heal."
Kiana and Éomer noticed that they had already circled around and arrived back at Kiana's home. "Thank you for accompanying me on my walk, Éomer, and I am sorry that I could not be of more help to you."
Éomer managed a wearied smile at that. "You were more help than you know." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it before bowing and taking his leave. "Good night, Kiana."
"Good night, Éomer." Kiana waited until he disappeared around the bend before heading back inside and decided to warm up some milk with honey and lavender. As the milk simmered with the lavender and honey, Kiana wondered if Éomer was going to be alright. The nightmares seemed to be getting worse and taking a bigger toll on him than before. She worried it would begin interfering with his duties or even lead to him getting hurt or sick from the exhaustion.
When her milk was finished, she took her mug to go snuggle up in her bed with her back against the wall.
'I really hope he can get a good night's rest soon... who knows what'll happen if he can't.'
Back in his room, Éomer had finally managed to fall asleep but it was not a peaceful slumber by any means. Like every night for the past several months, the same recurring nightmare began plaguing him almost immediately after he had closed his eyes.
A heavy fog swirled around Éomer as he looked around, trying to find the way out. Screaming and shouting could be heard amidst the sounds of battle and the fog slowly turned to smoke as it cleared a path for Éomer to take. Clearing the smoke-riddled field, the young lord found himself in the middle of a raid- people fleeing for their lives or being cut down, children crying, horses braying in terror as the flames danced along their manes. Walls crumbled and smoke rose, accompanied by the sound of the creaking of burning wood as buildings collapsed.
"Help me!"
"No..! Please..!"
Éomer drew his sword and jumped into the fray, attacking the enemy. They were surrounded and seemingly outnumbered, but the éored stood strong nonetheless.
"My lord, look out!"
Éomer turned just as a young man leaped in front of him, taking the blade that had been intended for him instead. The young man fell to the ground in a heap and Éomer cut down the Dunlending attacker before dropping to his knees beside the young man.
"Héoláf, you fool!"
Héoláf chuckled, but blood spurted forth as he coughed. "Better me than you... my lord."
"We need the healer." Éomer looked around, trying to see if there was a free hand or two able to assist, but a gust of wind surrounded them with a miasma.
"No need to waste medical supplies, my lord," Héoláf managed, feeling the darkness taking him. "Tell my sister I'm sorry that I couldn't come home to her."
"Héoláf, just hold on!" Éomer called over some of his men to help him get Héoláf onto a horse and off the battlefield, but when he looked back down at the young man, another familiar voice approached.
"You promised to keep him safe."
"Héodis..?"
Héodis looked down at her brother as he lay in the young lord's arms. "Is he safe?" Blood trickled down her chin from the corner of her mouth and blood soaked her dress from where an arrow had pierced her stomach. "You promised to keep him safe."
Éomer shook his head, struggling to find the words he always failed to, but Héodis just advanced on him.
"Why didn't you save me, Éomer?" she asked, her movements rickety and broken.
Éomer staggered back as Heolaf disintegrated into a pile of ashes.Héodis continued her advance, her expression shifting from trepidation to wickedness as a twisted grin spread across her lips and she began to shed tears of blood.
"Why didn't you save us?"
Eomer stumbled back, landing upon the ashen field. He cried out as the fallen seemed to rise once more, clawing their way towards him.
"Why didn't you save us? Why did you leave us to die?" The voices of the fallen- his comrades, the innocent villagers, the slain enemies- echoed in an eerie chorus, the miasma thickening around him.
"No, stop..!" he begged, covering his ears in an attempt to drown out the ghastly wails and incessant accusations.
"It should have been you, Éomer." Héodis' voice said, barely discernible from the myriad of other voices.
Éomer felt suffocated as the miasma parted just enough to reveal the ghosts of war closing in on him. "I'm sorry..!" he barely managed before more undead hands broke through the earth beneath him and pinned him down.
As the young lord struggled to free himself, Héodis stood over him with a sword in hand- his sword no less. "Héodis, please... forgive me..."
The wickedness had vanished and in its place was now hate and rage. "It should have been you." She said, bringing the sword down upon him.