I've never been very fond of the rain, and I certainly shouldn't appreciate it now. My tunic is cold, wet and determined to cling to my back no matter how often I reach back to peel it off. My hair is dripping water into my eyes, making it difficult to keep watch for orcs. The water has even begun dripping down into my boots so that they squish uncomfortably with every step I take.

I should be cursing this foul weather for slowing us in our quest to rescue Merry and Pippin. I should be railing against fate for splitting our company and then forcing us to march for days on end in a chill rain. And at another time, I would have. Only a year ago I would have been filled with despair at what our small fellowship has been forced to endure. The very same darkness that ensnared Boromir would have been nipping eagerly at my heels.

But I have discovered that there is light even in the darkest hours. And all I must do in order to see my light is glance to my right as I walk. All it takes is a glimpse of you to lift my heart and make my spirit want to sing. You are certainly as wet as the dwarf and I are, but you show no sign of annoyance. In fact, you seem to be enjoying the rain. Your green tunic clings to your body but you do not seem to notice. Instead, you tilt your head up as if welcoming the chill water on your face as I would welcome the warm sunlight.

The cool water trails down your face and I suddenly find myself longing to follow that same path with my tongue. I want to lap the water that is sliding down the silky skin of your throat, but I know that I can't. At least, not now.

You do not seem to care that your blond hair is plastered to your skull or that occasionally a wet strand will fall into your eyes. You just absently tuck it back behind a delicately pointed ear and continue on. I've always had a fascination with elven ears, especially yours. My lips are almost itching with the urge to pull you into my arms and suck on the point of one of those ears, but I can't do that either. Not yet.

My breath hitches when you glance over at me, a hint of a knowing smile curling your lips. A touch of fire enters your eyes and I know that when we stop to rest for the night you will end up in my arms. And then the water in my boots and dripping from my hair will no longer matter. It will not matter that we will be unable to light a fire because my light will be beside me, singing the songs that fall in the rain.

It is moments like these that I do not know why I ever disliked the rain.