Ch. 10: Choices

Soon the Fellowship left Lothlórien. Celeborn gave them boats to aid their travel, and they received other gifts, as well. First, warm cloaks, each perfectly fit to the wearer, grey yet seeming to change their hue to best blend in to their surroundings. After that, rope. It was a simple thing, but it put Sam at ease. Finally, Galadriel gave gifts to each one. For Aragorn, a sheath for Andúril and a brooch of green stone, seemingly with much history untold to the watchers; for Boromir, a golden belt; and silver belts to Merry and Pippin. Legolas received a new bow and quiver; Sam, a box of soil from the Lady's orchard; Gimli, who asked the audacious, was given a strand of the Lady's hair; for Frodo, a phial of the light of Eärandil's star. To Worf, she gave two sheathed Elven daggers, made of precious mithril. Worf put the longer of the two in his belt, and the shorter in his boot.
As they set off down the Great River, the Anduin. Worf shared a boat with Legolas and Gimli, and was again amazed at the change in them—they had become fast friends. The Hobbits soon became aware of Gollum following them—pretending to be a log floating in the river. Aragorn had been aware of it since Moria, when the creature first started tailing them. It was clear the Man was a master hunter. Worf had gathered a little information about Gollum, but still did not know exactly what the creature might do, and of what he was capable.
After that incident, the company hurried along faster; the river banks sped by. The rapids of Sarn Gebir came on them suddenly, and it took all their strength to paddle the boats back and to shore, lest they be crushed in the rapids. They had traveled further than any had reckoned. As they slowly fought their way back up the river, they were carried toward the eastern shore. When they approached it, they were attacked by Orcs armed with arrows; the Orcs seemed to see better at night than any of them. They worked their way to the western shore without injury, and a dark, winged creature flew over. Legolas shot a single arrow, and the thing fell out of the air with an evil scream. Frodo clutched the shoulder where he was wounded so long ago at Weathertop.
After resting the night, they rose to fog. Boromir was ready to turn aside and head to Minas Tirith, but Aragorn would have none of it. Once Boromir saw that Frodo would follow Aragorn, he relented. He would not be parted with the Ringbearer. Aragorn and Legolas scouted for the portage-way around the rapids. Worf tried to talk to Boromir as they waited, but the man was sullen and withdrawn. The man's pride was great, and he was convinced this was the wrong course of action, and would only take them into greater danger. Worf had to wonder how he thought going to Minas Tirith would accomplish the destruction of the ring, but he knew enough about the man to know that he did not believe in that task, either. The scouts returned, and reported that they had found the portage-way, but they way was difficult. They had been unable to find the northern landing that would have allowed them easier access.
The Elven boats were light, and when the ground was level, even two of the Hobbits could carry one of them. Unfortunately, the ground was nothing resembling level, and Aragorn, Boromir, and Worf lugged them across the rough land, while the others brought baggage. After the task was finished and everything brought to the southern landing of the portage, they rested, then continued. They reached the Argonath, giant statues of ancient kings, guarding the river. Worf stared up at them, as did Aragorn, but the others were intimidated by them. As they approached the statues, Aragorn seemed transformed—he was not the Strider they knew, but the descendent of the very kings the statues were patterned after, having returned finally to the land that was his right.
Coming through the chasm, they were greeted by an island in the middle of the river. Taking the right branch, they landed and rested below Amon Hen. During the night, Aragorn grew uneasy, and when Frodo drew Sting, it glowed dully; Worf drew the Elven dagger at his waist, and it, too, gleamed faintly. The Orcs were far off, but they were cause for concern. The next morning, the time finally came to decide what to do and where to go finally came. Frodo begged an hour to be alone. He wandered off, and Boromir followed. Worf slipped off in another direction, but came around to tail the Man silently. It bothered him to sneak around like a thief, but he was worried about what might happen. As he listened to them speak, Worf saw surely Boromir's ambition—to take the ring for himself; in his own mind, he thought he would use it to defend his people. The ring had taken command of his mind and convinced him of this. Boromir's ranting finally crystallized Frodo's resolve to go on to Mordor. It was probably the only thing that could have accomplished it. Worf watched mutely as his friend, possessed by desire for the ring, grabbed at the Hobbit, who put on the ring and escaped. Coming back to himself, Boromir realized what he had done and began to weep. Giving him his space, Worf, too, slipped quietly off, unseen.
As Worf returned, the others were debating their course, then realized that Boromir was gone. Worf said nothing of what he had seen, but it didn't take much for Aragorn and the others to put two and two together. After a while, Boromir returned, and told some of his story, leaving out the part about grabbing for the Ring. Aragorn was suspicious, but a more immediate problem presented itself when most of the company ran off in separate directions. Aragorn sent Boromir after Merry and Pippin, then took Sam with him to search for Frodo. Worf went off alone, also searching for the Hobbit. None of them realized when Frodo and Sam slipped off alone. Sam, who knew his master best, had guessed his plans and followed him to the boats, and refused to be left behind.