With a Little Help
Boromir drove his paddle into the waters of the Anduin, steering the graceful elven boat around a rock. The current of the river carried the Fellowship’s three boats onward with little effort on their part; the leaf-shaped paddles needed little except for the occasional steering. While it allowed them to save their strength for the time when they must leave the river and take to their feet again, the lack of anything much to do made for hours of tedium. On this, their second day afloat, he was again glad that it was Merry and Pippin who shared his boat, for they were good companions, helping the time pass with their glib chatter. Though they had been sobered by Gandalf’s death, the young hobbits’ ebullient nature was already recovering, and they whiled away much of the time in talking. They reminisced of past adventures, told Boromir of life in the Shire, asked him about his home and family. Seeking light-hearted memories, Boromir told them many tales of his and Faramir’s boyhood, smiling as he recalled the good times he and his brother had shared.
Whenever they fell quiet, though, simply tired of talking for a while or because they had dozed off, Boromir was left to his own thoughts. Thoughts of Aragorn.