Éomer was learning the ways of government quickly, but it was Éowyn who understood the problems brought to them and knew the laws and procedures necessary to create solutions. Although the villages and homes that had been burned by their enemies were being rebuilt, spring was ending and still the numbers of crops and the people to grow them were still far too few. One evening as they debated, Éowyn sitting at the base of the throne and Éomer pacing the floor, Éowyn suggested that they forego their pride and ask Gondor for aid. "Their crops did not suffer as ours did, and they have great stores of food in Minas Tirith. Surely they could help us in our hour of need, as we came to them."

Éomer stopped and faced his sister. He knew she was right. "I would like to appoint you as my advisor," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Éowyn, you are already doing the job, I simply think you deserve the title. Valar know the people will trust me more if they know someone who has some idea how to govern is helping to make the decisions."

Éowyn felt as though she had been hit in the stomach, as though the Nazgul had struck her again, for a chill ran through her and she could not force air into her lungs. She was glad that she was sitting down, for the room seemed to spin around her. In one sentence her brother had given her all that she once dreamed of, and now dreaded. She knew that her brother was right, that this was the right thing to do, and that is what hurt her the most. She thought of the good she could do, of the difference she could make as the King's advisor, helping her brother to lead Rohan to a better future. But Éowyn did not want to be needed, she wanted to be free to love Faramir and stay by his side, but how could she abandon her people and her brother in their hour of need? All her life, Éowyn had dreamed of being able to fight, to serve her people. She wanted to feel needed and appreciated. She had always been told 'no.' Now her brother was standing before her, offering her the chance to help her people. She was no longer simply a woman trying to fill a man's role. She was a woman entrusted with making decisions that could help her people. Her brother was offering her the recognition she had always been denied, so how could she refuse? This was another kind of love altogether, but in her heart she knew that her loyalty must lie with her people. Éomer sat down beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Would you do this for Rohan?" He asked. She could not speak, but nodded her assent to her brother, forcing a smile and blinking back tears.

It was late and Éowyn, feigning fatigue, retired to her room for the evening. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, trying with all the strength she had not to cry. Tears began to stream down her cheeks and she pressed her fingers to her eyes in an attempt to stop them. It was no use. A muffled, strangled sob escaped her throat and Éowyn lost all composure. She sank to the cold floor, her hands balled into fists in protest of the emotions she could not control. Hours later, Éowyn found the will to climb into her bed and she drifted into an uneasy sleep. She dreamt that she was again in Minas Tirith with Faramir, the day they had first kissed. When their lips touched, however, the sky went dark and the city shook. Buildings crumbled around them and she found herself on the Pelennor fields, the Lord of the Nazgul before her with sword raised. She was not armed and so called out to Faramir, only to find that he was no longer by her side.

Early the next morning, Éowyn, determined to appear calm, rose early and went for a ride. She needed to clear her thoughts, but hours later the choice was still no easier. Duty called Éowyn to Rohan and Faramir to Gondor. Though they loved each other to the depth of their souls, that love could never be enough to solve the problems of their people. Both were called to lives of service, but called by different voices.

Éowyn returned to her room in Meduseld and went to work before her determination faltered. First, she wrote a letter to King Aragorn, asking for Gondor's aid for the coming winter, but it was short, for her mind and heart were elsewhere. Once finished, she pulled out another piece of paper and prepared to write, but the room seemed to spin about her and she could not breathe. The page seemed to get larger and smaller, closer and further away. Before she knew it, her quill had soaked the page with a large spot of ink, and she had to start again. She pulled out yet another piece of paper and began to write:

Dearest Faramir,
My brother is learning the ways of government, but our people, I
fear, will not be able to see the coming winter through without
aid. I have written to King Aragorn for assistance and I hope
that Gondor will be able to help us in our hour of need. What I
mean to say is that things are very bad here, and will take a
great deal of time to mend.
Again I stray, Faramir, from what I am trying to say, for I am
afraid to say it and my hand is trembling. The day King Théoden
left Rohan to ride to his death in battle, he bade me promise
him that I would return to Edoras and protect our people. In my
pride and conceit, I followed him into battle, seeking instead a
famous death. Like a fool, I broke a promise to my Uncle, my
King. I betrayed my people. Since I have returned to my
homeland, I have found our people in distress and in danger of
starvation over the coming winter. I cannot help but think that
some of this could have been averted had I returned home to
protect them.
My brother, not thinking that he would ever be called upon to
assume the throne, was never taught the ways of government. But
I, as the King's caretaker, was. My brother has now asked me to
be his Advisor, and I, out of loyalty and love to my country and
my brother, have accepted. How can I refuse my people a second
time? I cannot justify abandoning them, as deep as my love for
you is.
I cannot return to you, my love, though it breaks my heart a
thousand times over. My loyalty must lie first with Rohan: I
cannot break my promise to Théoden a second time. How can I run
away from the struggles of my own people? How could I stand to
live in utter happiness with you whilst they starve? How can I
abandon my brother, when he must carry such a heavy burden and I
am the only family that he has left in this world? How can I
deny my own heart and love for you? I am filled only with
questions, for I do not understand why I was rescued in battle
only to be torn in two in peacetime. If I were free to choose I
would never again leave your side, but I am not free to make
such a decision.
I do not ask you to forgive, but I only hope that perhaps
someday you will understand what I must do now. Forget me, I
beg of you, for I could not stand to know that such a man as you
would live out long years alone. Though it has come to nothing,
I will never regret the time we had, for you saved me in more
ways than you could ever know.
I am sorry.
Éowyn

Éowyn sealed the two letters, one containing hope for her people and the other ending hope for herself. She handed them to a courier and watched as he rode south and disappeared over the rolling hills of Rohan. "It is done," she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and forced the tears and desolation away. "I will not give in to despair," she whispered heatedly. She had mastered emotion before but it took more effort this time. With that, she took a deep breath and returned inside, where her duties as the King's advisor awaited her.