Just when Boromir thought that Moria couldn't get any worse, he'd had a restless night, Gandalf knew that he was lying to him, and the mine was a tomb and it was dark and dank, it did. And it did in the form of Boromir didn't know what. He'd never seen anything like it before, and with his Father's upbringing, he'd learnt to be cautious of things that were new to him. That didn't stop him for long though, after a moments pause he dove straight into the water, intent on rescuing Frodo.
'Of all of us,' Boromir thought, 'it had to be the ring bearer, which that thing decided to grab. Bloody typical!'
Aragorn was now in on the rescue attempt and seemed to be having a bit more luck than Boromir, but then again, he probably wasn't scared stiff, as Boromir was. Since he was initially afraid of new situations, it always took him a while to adapt to them, which was also part of the reason why he had kept a measure of indifference at the start of the quest. He was not used to travelling with so many people, especially when he knew none of them. That was partly the reason why he had revealed so much to Merry and Pippin, in a very short period of time, telling them things that no one else knew. In a way they were a substitute for Faramir, but no one could ever take the place of his beloved brother. What he wouldn't do to have Faramir with him now. He had wished for his brother consently on the first two or so days of the quest, Gandalf seeming more like a stranger then, since Boromir had not seen him in such a long time.
A couple more strikes of Aragorn's sword, and a few arrows shot from Legolas' bow and Frodo was falling from whatever it was that had had hold of him. Boromir caught him easily, running for the mine, which he had already been in and fled out of. He did however dread the effect that the so called mine, which was really a tomb, would have on Merry and Pippin. He himself was not afraid of death, he had come to accept it, and he had been expecting it almost all of his life it seemed, and all the more recently. Yes, he knew that death would come to him soon, and in a way he welcomed it, but in another way he dreaded it, he dreaded leaving Faramir on his own, with only their father. But what he dreaded more was the thought that Faramir would join him in death soon, but he knew that Faramir had the same views as him, and that when it came, death would be welcomed. It would lay aside all the torment they had suffered through, and would allow them to be in peace. They both looked forward to that day greatly, only really having each other to leave behind. But now Boromir had Merry and Pippin, and the rest of the fellowship.
As the thing pulled down the entrance of the mines, Boromir felt a flash of panic shoot through him... he did not particularly like enclosed spaces, particularly dark enclosed spaces. He was glad when Gandalf got his staff to give off a little light. Boromir was still carrying Frodo, who had his head pressed against Boromir's neck. Boromir glanced back at the now covered over entrance. "Well, then," he muttered, "I vote we go through the mines." Frodo gave a little giggle, as Boromir's sense of humour once more came to the surface and allowed Boromir to gently place him on the ground. It was at that moment that he felt as if someone was watching him closely. He glanced around at the fellowship and noticed Pip giving him a look, which was half a pout and half a glare. He offered the hobbit a smile and when the fellowship started off once more, he slipped his hand into Pippin's; much to the young ones delight. Boromir had decided that he was going to risk open friendship, and make sure that he could keep his new friends safe, not like friends he had once had and had now lost. He decided not to dwell on that aspect of his history, as it was probably the most painful part of his past, and the part, which gave his father control over him and his brother, even now.
Boromir shivered, but whether it was from the memory or his wet clothing he couldn't tell. He was soaked to the skin, just like Aragorn and Frodo. He knew that they would have to change into some dry clothing as soon as they stopped to rest. And he didn't know what he was going to do... he was soaked through, but he couldn't take his undershirt off, lest anyone see the scars on his back and arms... he dreaded to think what would happen if they did. Also, both he and Aragorn had gotten some minor cuts and the like of that thing's tentacles... and if he knew Aragorn, he knew he was going to insist on cleaning them. That wasn't good, because of the scars. And besides, he'd had worse wounds that hadn't been treated, and he was all right wasn't he?
Presently, he felt Pippin tug on his hand and he automatically went to one knee to be at the same height level as the young hobbit. Pip then tugged his hair and gave him a smile, which Boromir returned gladly. It wouldn't do for him to brood over things, and once again he was glad that Pip and his cousin were on the quest, despite the dangers it put in their way. They seemed to walk for hours, going up endless sets of stairs, deep into the mountain halls. Finally they stopped and no one had noticed that Boromir had been carrying both Merry and Pippin for the last hour. In fact he had been carrying Pippin for a lot longer than that, but Merry had noticed when he had began to fall behind and Boromir hadn't really had any other choice than to pick Merry up as well because he had no idea for desire for any of them to be lost in the dark maze that was Moria.
Aragorn was the first to notice the two young hobbits both practically asleep on Boromir's shoulders and instantly moved to take one of them. Boromir then placed the other gently on the ground as well. It was then that Aragorn realised that Boromir was as wet as he was and he guessed that Frodo was as well. Aragorn quickly got Frodo to change into dry clothing and then he changed himself, treating his minor wounds. He looked over to Boromir to see if he had done the same. Boromir had indeed changed his outer tunic, but what Aragorn didn't know was that Boromir had not treated his wounds, they did not hurt him, and he'd had a lot worse. He also still had his undershirt on despite the fact it was still wet, he'd change it in the night, when no one was looking. He wasn't bothered, he was happier then he could remember being, apart from the summers spent in Dol Amroth with Faramir.