Whatever his lineage may be, he sets a vicious pace, I grumbled in my mind. The Ranger had not paused for a minute since setting out. This was especially unpleasant since he had decided, at the last second, to snag the final boat for use after the Falls. The terrain around Rauros was far nastier than that around Sarn Gebir, and only the boat's Elvish durability kept it in one piece on our way down.
In fact, all our Elvish gifts served us very well; at one point in the climb, mine saved both our lives. Aragorn had preceded me, and was hanging onto the boat while I followed; but my boot slipped on the rock, my hand reached out to find pure air, and if my belt hadn't caught on another point of rock I would have fallen and knocked Aragorn off as well. The Lady's belt held amazingly well, for being merely gold, and I whispered quick thanks to Galadriel and Eru before continuing down.
We reached the river after two days. My back felt about to simply crack, and even Aragorn looked haggard, when we camped for the night.
Next morning, we carried the boat to the river bank. Rauros thundered only a few hundred feet upstream, but this beach was relatively calm, owing largely to a huge and ancient oak tree fallen into the water. We loaded our water-sensitive gear into the boat and I waded out, holding one end.
The beach seemed calm, anyway-- as I got deeper into the river, a sudden rip current caught me and plunged my head under the water. I surfaced with a splutter to find Aragorn running after the boat, saying some rather un-kingly things about it: the current had caught it, too, and pulled it right out of his hands.
I dragged myself ashore as quickly as I could, but all those clothes were real trouble when wet. I managed to step on a root or something, too, and it pierced right through my boot and set me limping.
I clambered out and started after Aragorn. I found him behind a large, nearby rock, surveying something with acute distaste. I took one look and swore.
The boat was there, undamaged of course. All our equipment was there too, and that was a blessing. But that rip current had jammed it between two large rocks-- moreover, said rocks sat 30 feet from the shore, completely without stepping stones to reach them.
"This is not acceptable," I growled, staring at the stupid boat. Stupid boat, stupid current, stupid Aragorn not going fast enough, stupid me to get knocked down... I swore again, not knowing what else to do. Aragorn looked up.
"If only Sam were here, he'd get us over with his rope, but I don't think I carry any rope," he told me.
"If only Ulmo were here, he'd just hand us the boat, but I don't think he is," I snarled back. Aragorn lifted one warning eyebrow and turned back to surveying the boat. I think he was almost amused by my reaction, and that only made me madder.
"Or maybe the future King can just command the water to part for us," I continued.
"Peace, Boromir," he snapped, amusement gone. "Perhaps the Son of Gondor can fly out there? Failing that, perhaps he can make a useful suggestion?-- but I begin to doubt it."
I gaped. Here was that thrice-cursed boat, that we'd almost killed ourselves getting down the cliff, stuck useless in the middle of the Anduin, and he was going to bicker with me? I folded my arms and stared back upstream, mostly not to look at the aggravating Ranger any more.
After a moment, Aragorn touched me on my shoulder-- a little more forcefully than necessary, I grumped to myself, massaging it-- and pointed up the river.
"Perhaps we could ride a branch from that tree down to the boat?" he suggested.
"Why not just swim out to it?" I countered. "We could start from the end of the tree, it's almost as far out as the rocks."
"Can you swim well enough?" he asked, raising an eyebrow again. I was getting annoyed by that trick; I could never manage to raise one by itself, and it seemed to be Aragorn's primary means of communication.
"I can swim fine, can't you?" That took him off-balance.
"I can swim quite well, but a branch would be prudent in a strong current such as this. Even I would not presume to dive in without something to aid me."
'Even I'? Like he could swim better than I could. I snorted. "Is it prudence, or is it weakness?" Then, most definitely not demonstrating the former, I headed off to the end of the tree and jumped in.
I was dimly aware of Aragorn calling to me, probably more because I knew he would than because I could hear him, but I struck out strongly for the rocks. I only needed to adjust course a few feet towards mid-stream and I rushed straight for the cleft between the two.
I had a few seconds to wish I had listened to Aragorn as I approached the rocks: they had no visible handholds, and I wondered how I would get into the boat.
The boat was jammed a few feet into the passage, before the rocks became too high and hid it from sight, but those few feet left me in a narrow cleft, unable to push myself up, unable to maneuver enough to climb into the boat, and unable to scramble onto either of the large rocks. I muttered a multi-use word from Gimli and decided to see if things looked different on the other side.
I tried to swim under the boat, but the cleft narrowed too rapidly, and I was forced to turn back. Then panic set in. In this narrow channel, the current increased tenfold, and I couldn't push against it! I couldn't swim up, either, the boat blocked my path. I, Boromir II, son of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor, was going to drown in a river.
A smidgen of intelligence held on somewhere, though, and I thought of swimming down. Only option left, really. I tried it, and the channel opened out much more, enough to where the current could be resisted. As the panic receded, I fought my way back and then up.
When I broke the surface, the branch with Aragorn riding it nearly removed my eye: he had taken his own advice. "Blast it, Aragorn!" I sputtered, fending off the tip. He just reached out one wiry arm and pulled me up onto the branch. I shook my head, clearing my eyes, and investigated the situation. Aragorn had gotten the branch wedged against the two rocks, and now we had something to push off from.
"That was pointless foolishness," he remarked, eyeing me. Normally I would have admitted it and thanked him for coming to my aid. Normally I would have been happy to have someone to help me. Right now, the Ranger just struck me as the most arrogant show-off I had yet met.
So, instead, I snapped, "My perceived plight did not necessitate the infallible Lord Aragorn rushing to my rescue." Before he could take me to task for being a jerk-- again-- I turned and shoved off against the branch to get onto the nearest rock. This sent the branch, with its burden of Aragorn diving down, and the shock on his disappearing face gave me a most ignoble satisfaction.
As Aragorn discovered the powerful current for himself, I set about inspecting the boat. Incredibly, nothing had even been wetted, much less lost. As I began contemplating how to dislodge our craft, Aragorn heaved himself onto the other rock.
He finished panting, wiped his eyes, then turned on me like lightning. "Control your temper, Boromir," he snarled, "or you may not be so blessed the next time temptation calls."
I gave him my famous I'm-the-Captain-of-Gondor-who-are-you? response. Unfortunately, it's a rather vibrant expression, and Aragorn's eyes narrowed dangerously. I momentarily considered going for my weapon, but while I had never confronted the Ranger blade to blade, I had seen him fight and had no doubt he could beat me. Instead, I knelt down by the boat and started trying to work my fingers in, ignoring him completely.
Aragorn must have given up on me, since after a second he knelt with a sigh to copy my efforts on the other side. After a few minutes, we succeeded in wiggling it out. Now to return it to the river...
Clearly, pushing it back against the current was not an option. The two rocks mounted up steadily on this side, but downstream they tumbled jaggedly to the turbulent effluence of the channel, so that was out too. Aragorn smirked at me, and though he spoke no word, the challenge was clear. Would the Captain of Gondor be able to get the boat into this current without it upsetting?
"Good question," I muttered. Aragorn-- you guessed it-- raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. I resisted the urge to push him back into the river and stood, thinking. I also discovered a habit I didn't even know I had-- apparently, I was much given to fidgeting with my shield strap, as I found my hand repeatedly straying to where the strap would have been. I shook my head and tried to focus.
"Although it would be best to simply set off from here," I began, "I think our best choice is this: you, Aragorn, swim to shore, then go down to where those rocks reach out into the stream. I'll send the boat down to you as soon as you're ready." Aragorn nodded, his smirk widening, and with another spark of anger I realized he'd already reached the exact same conclusion. He just wanted to see if I would be able to. "Well, go on," I pressed, mentally determining to be nothing worse than 'annoyed' no matter what kind of a snot he acted.
Aragorn retrieved his branch and got back in the river, smirk still firmly attached. I waited next to the boat, observing as he floated to the rocks then scrambled onto a good flat one. I tugged the boat into the river and had it snatched from my hands, but I watched until Aragorn-- thank the Valar-- caught the boat before leaping into the water to strike out for shore.
I hauled myself out of the water, for the third time in one hour; I desperately hoped this didn't foreshadow the rest of our trip down the Anduin. Aragorn struck a pose while waiting for me, and I noted it didn't even take one bit of effort on his part. Natural. Remembering I was only 'annoyed', I didn't snarl at him.
"Good work," I said with something approaching a smile. Aragorn surveyed me for a moment, then nodded.
"Get in."
Now really, what else was I going to do?