Sarah: Do I know you? lol, j/k

AzNnEgGrOePnOi: Thanks again :) I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be, but I do plan on having a sequel that continues up to the point when Boromir leaves for Rivendell.

Shlee Verde: Of course Faramir and Boromir are great; they're Faramir and Boromir! I just get to write about them...

Agador-of-the-woods: Bardok may be gone, but there will be plenty of other problems for the brothers, and Gondor, to deal with...

Caroly: I'm not sure if this is 'soon' or not, but here's the next update! Thanks for reviewing

Lirenel: Denethor's definitely not my favorite character, but most of the time I think he's ok. But, I agree there are a few specific scenes where I'd like to throw a little popcorn at him! (for example, when Denethor says he wished Faramir had gone to Rivendell instead of Boromir..)

A.Katz Omnipotent King: *brushes off hands* Yes, I don't think we'll be seeing any more of Bardok.

*Any mistakes can be blamed on: 1) The evil paint fumes slowly moving through my house, 2) Lurtz 3) my palantir (stolen from Sauron of course) misfunctioning.

******Not much action here, because the chapter is a combination of the aftermath caused by Bardok, and preparing for problems with Harad.******
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Sleep seemed out of the question for Boromir and Faramir after the incidences of the previous night. They had spent about an hour sitting at the top of the white tower, for Denethor forbade them to go down the stairwell until Bardok was removed, then they were eventually sent back to their room. Both brothers now sat upon Boromir's bed, simply staring off into space, and attempting to ease the horrors of the earlier events.

Boromir was deep in thought. He pondered the fact that he had fled from Bardok. At the time, it seemed like a good idea, partly because Denethor had ordered it, and partly because he knew it was his duty to take care of Faramir. However, something about running away from danger irked him. As he looked back, it seemed somewhat dishonorable, almost cowardly.

He spoke inside his head. "What if something like that happens in the future? Will I have enough courage to fight off evil, or am I doomed by fear to flee from danger?" A shadow passed across his face. What would have happened had Bardok been too much for Denethor? Was it really the right thing to abandon a man to face another alone?

Boromir was so absorbed in his thoughts, that at first he did not hear his brother speak. Faramir had to shake him before he finally responded. "What?" Boromir asked, turning towards the small figure next to him, attempting to pay attention.

"What do you think happened after we fled?" Faramir repeated, gazing at his brother. "Down in the hall, and on the stairs, what happened?"

Boromir thought he had a pretty good idea about the events on the stairs, but he wasn't about to describe to the younger boy the images embedded in his mind. Instead, he answered, "You saw what happened. Father came to us in the tower, so he obviously took care of Bardok."

Faramir nodded, then spoke again. "He killed them, didn't he?"

"What?" Boromir was confused. "Them?"

"Bardok. He killed all those guards in the hall, the ones you said were lying on the floor."

Boromir was surprised that Faramir would be thinking about that. "Yes," he said reluctantly, knowing that he could not get away with a complete lie. "I guess they must be dead."

"Why?"

"Why are they dead? Because he probably poisoned them, or something like that."

"No, why did he kill them?"

Boromir sighed. Why did his brother have to ask such questions? Bardok had been slightly crazy. Who wanted to fathom why he acted the way he did? The rumors about men from Harad being cruel and uncaring were apparently truthful. "I don't know why he killed them. It probably fit in with his plan somehow."

"Oh."

There was a long pause. Then, Faramir spoke once more, in a soft, almost inaudible voice. "It's never right to kill anybody, except if they are going to hurt you. Bardok deserved what he got, but those guards didn't. What will happen to their families?"

The sentimentality of Faramir was beginning to wear away at Boromir's somewhat frayed patience. "Why do you speak of such things?" he answered. "Isn't it enough that we are here now, unharmed? Bardok was evil, but you use him as a basis of comparison! He was crazy!"

After that, both were silent, each lost in his own thoughts.

********

Denethor was in a small room at the back of the tower, speaking with one of his advisors, Theren. Their voices were barely audible, as if foreshadowing some impending darkness.

"My lord," Theren began. "Bardok has been disposed of, and now, there are more pressing questions to attend to. What does this mean for the relations of Gondor and Harad? Perhaps it was only an extreme event, and had naught to do with Harad."

"Nay," answered Denethor. Though his face looked stern as usual, his eyes were slightly troubled. "I believe there is an impending conflict between Gondor and Harad. Bardok was sent to weaken Minas Tirith, through either my death, or the ransoming of one of my sons. Our neighbors to the south will not react too kindly when they receive news of Bardok's death."

"Surely he was not important to them? He appeared to be only of middle class, perhaps a bit above, but not of royalty."

"The death of one man would hardly trouble the rulers of Harad, be it a beggar or a king. However, they seem to be in the midst of brewing up trouble for us. Now that we have killed one of their own, though it be only in defense, they will use him as a symbol, and stir up an army against us."

Theren frowned. How could the Steward come to such a seemingly rash conclusion based on so little evidence. "Perhaps you may be...overreacting a bit? Harad has been generally at peace with us for a good time now."

Denethor hardened his voice. "Those of the house of Stewards have ever had the gift of foresight! Such things will come to pass, I can assure you."

Theren still seemed unconvinced, though he silently admitted to himself that Denethor often did seem well informed about the events throughout, and even outside, the borders of Gondor. He stood up and walked towards the door. However, he paused momentarily, as if something else seemed to be on his mind. "Forgive me, my lord," Theren stated. "I have but one more thing to ask. I was told that you ambushed Bardok after he laid hold of your son, yet one thing still puzzles me. How was it that you were able to prepare yourself for such an attack?"

"It was little more than an educated guess, Theren," replied Denethor. His eyes rested for an instant upon a hastily covered object, resembling a black sphere, that sat upon a low shelf of the room.

********

Boromir and Faramir were eventually allowed out of their room, and the afternoon hours found them outside in the courtyard in front of the white tower. They had not been given permission to wander through the city, for Denethor, among others, wanted to be certain that their safety would be in no way jeopardized. Thus, the brothers had abandoned their original plan to meet up with Mergil.

Now, Faramir and Boromir were practicing their sword fighting skills, as they did on many other days. However, it was turning into a rather dismal practice. The latter was the only one paying any real attention, for Faramir appeared to be treating his sword as a poisonous snake that he had no desire to handle. In fact, he had already lost his grip on the hilt twice.

Boromir finally threw down his own sword in frustration. Except in rare instances, he was generally kind towards Faramir; but he was also very proud of his swordmanship, and felt that an opponent who refused to fight was attempting to mock him. "Faramir!" he half shouted. "What is the matter with you? Your sword is not going to devour you, or turn you to stone, or anything of the like! Why do you treat it thus?!"

"I do not want to fight."

The quiet response irritated Boromir, and he struggled not to become too angry. "Is it true that Faramir is elevated too far above the level of sword fighting that he cannot waste any time on his brother? How dare-" He stopped suddenly upon seeing the look in Faramir's eyes.

Faramir's hand shook slightly as he barely touched his sword. "I don't want to be a murderer like Bardok."

Boromir's face softened. "Is that what ails you, my brother? Aye, Bardok was evil," he admitted, picking up his sword and sheathing it. "But not all people are like that. Sometimes you must fight to defend your honor, or your country, or your family. Surely you realize that Father fought last night to protect us? And our soldiers protect Gondor. They are not murderers."

Faramir did not respond, so Boromir added, "Someday, we will fight together, to protect Gondor, to protect our people. Then you will understand what I speak of."

A moment passed, as Faramir thought about his brother's words. "I guess," he eventually replied, brightening a little.

Boromir grinned in an attempt to further cheer up Faramir. "Come on then, let us think of other things! I suppose if you wish it, the sword fighting might wait until tomorrow. We will find something more interesting to entertain us!"

Faramir looked hopeful. "Alright, brother. But-," he paused for a second, "could you keep my sword? Just for a little while?" He held it out to Boromir nervously.

"I will," answered Boromir, "but only temporarily. I would be sorely disappointed if I lost my best opponent, and had to practice sword fighting against a tree!" He took the sword from Faramir, then gestured towards the tower. "Come, my brother!"

Faramir eagerly followed Boromir back towards the palace, feeling mostly relieved of the great weight that had plagued him following Bardok's attack. Neither brother paid attention to the darkening clouds, casting shadows upon the southern sky.