'Ride like the wind', Aragorn warned you as you hoisted the badly-wounded Frodo Baggins onto your steed. You rode for three days and nights without rest or sustenance, fearing too much for the life of your new friend, for whom you also were beginning to feel a thrum in your heart for. By the time you reached Rivendell, just barely evading the Nazgûl along the way, you felt half-dead, though not as terrible as you were sure Frodo felt. After many long weeks, through which his health was unstable and in question, he finally awoke with you seated at his bedside and holding his hand. He smiled up at you and you grinned warmly back.

"Welcome back, Frodo."

"A welcome sight first thing after waking- you're as pretty as a daisy, Y/N. Now please- where am I?"