"Farewell, Aragorn. Go to Minas Tirith to save my people. I have failed."
There seemed to be the sound of rushing water. Pain struck him as Boromir attempted to move. Water sprayed his face and trickled over his hands. What was going on?
Boromir didn't want to open his eyes. He just woke from a wonderful dream, of his mother when she was still alive. And frankly, his armor was heavy and it would be some feat to be able to get up wearing it. Only when he heard the roar of a waterfall did he blink open his eyes.
It was a bad idea. A really, horrible idea.
Boromir was thrust into the world of reality when he turned his head to glance what was ahead – and he screamed.
He cursed and swore loudly as he frantically tried to get off the raft (though even that too was a bad idea, for he would be swept away by the raging waters) and onto shore, but of course his arrow wounds didn't help much, only giving him sharp stabs of pain.
His screams echoed as the raft came tumbling down over the waterfall. His last thought was, "How did I even get here? Damn you, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. I'm not dead yet!"
Somewhere else, far away…
Aragorn sneezed loudly, and Gimli did as well. Legolas was about to make a remark when he sneezed as well. The three looked at each other.
Aragorn laughed and said, "I bet someone was talking about us."
Gimli chuckled, "Yeah, probably."
Legolas smiled as well, but he said, "You know, I hope Boromir wasn't alive when we sent him down that river. It leads to a waterfall."
His other two companions only laughed at him, saying that it was impossible. Aragorn was there when Boromir said his last words.
"But you know what? It would've been hilarious if he was," Aragorn mused.
Legolas's answer was: "Right…sure…okay…"
Silence fell over them with uncomfortable thoughts.