I Remember December
by, Smeagol's girl

(A/N: To be honest with y'all, it's pretty pathetic that I'm Smeagol's girl and yet I've only written (and completed) one Smeagol fic. So that's about to change! This is a sequal of sorts to Blue Horizons. Now before I get the groans and the eyerolls... please keep in mind that my writing has improved since my first story EVER so this should be an improvement over that. I will do my best to pull Hope-Anne out of Mary-Sue's ugly grip and turn her normal. But she can still play the guitar. I refuse to take away that feature.

Summary: Takes place about a month after Blue Horizons. Hope and Smeagol are still together but the truth of what's to come is haunting her.
Especially as her friendship with Deagol begins to become stronger and she begins to realize how hard it'll hurt the day he dies. This is really a two part fic. The first part is how the events take their ugly course, and the second part jumps to after Smeagol/Gollum's death and how Hope-Anne may be the one thing left that can still save his soul. It's hard to explain, but you'll see what I'm talking about as it progresses. Rated T. I own nothing except for Hope-Anne.)

"Looking back at me I see that I never really got it right/ I never stopped to think of you/ I'm always wrapped up in things I cannot win/ You are the antidote that gets me by/ Something strong like a drug that gets me high/
But what I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am/ I never meant to be so cold... never meant to be/ But what I really meant to say/ Is I'm sorry for the way I am/ I never meant to be so cold... never meant to be"
-'Cold,' by Crossfade (this song is on my myspace profile along with a Smeagolian background I created. Look me up by email).

A rush of adrenaline passed over Hope-Anne as she stared over the edge of the large tree branch and into the large plunge that lead to the river. From below, the drop hadn't looked too big at all, but now that she was standing there, she could have sworn the tree had grown about ten or twenty feet. Her heart was pumping, and for a minute she considered climbing back down and not taking the jump.

"Come on!" shouted a voice from below. "You can do it! Just jump!" She diverted her eyes from the water and looked to the shore at the hobbit watching her expectantly. His eyes sparkled slightly with eagerness as he watched her, but it brought her no comfort. Not this time.

"I can't, Smeagol," she called back down.

"Yes you can! It's fun! Trust me!" She closed her eyes trying to only hear his voice and not think about the drop. Frantically she tried to turn all her focus to his voice, but she realized she couldn't jump with her eyes closed.
Opening them she sighed, knowing he'd never forgive her for it, and turned around, making the decent back down the tree. Smeagol frowned at her, but took hold of her waist to help her down.

"You could have done it," said Smeagol softly. "You know very well you could have."

"Can we forget it, please?" she said, her tone everything but friendly.
"Forgive me if I haven't entirely become comfortable with the thought of falling and breaking a leg just yet." He smiled sadly and kissed her cheek.

"You wouldn't have fallen," he said softly. "Not before I caught you."

The remark was corny. She knew it. But just knowing he was trying to say the right thing was enough and she smiled at him. Prehaps that was why so many lovers allowed each other to get away with some of the most cheesiest pick-up lines she'd ever heard.

His arm draped over her shoulders, and she snaked her arm around his waist as they headed back for the village. One thing she was beginning to learn about these times was the lack of display of public affection these people seemed to show for each other. Even hold hands seemed to be reserved for the privacy of your own home... or hole. She and Smeagol would walk like they were outside of the village, but once they arrived they would give each other a respectable distance so not to cause a scene. More and more they found themselves wandering further and further away from the village in attempt to make the walks in each other's arms last longer.

Part of her wondered if she had not been his... if it had been someone else,
would they have walked this closely as well, or was it her bad influence starting to come over him?

They had kept their relationship a secret from his grandmother, fearing what she would do if she found out, and if Deagol knew, neither of them had told him. Smeagol had explained to her that Deagol had a way of becoming jealous whenever Smeagol had something that Deagol couldn't and said they should keep it a secret until he too had found someone.

"It's a nice thought, but he'd have to be an idiot if he didn't know already"
was Hope's reply. They had been more careful about their behaviour around each other in front of his grandmother than they had with Deagol which had lead to shameless flirting. There was no doubt in Hope's mind that Deagol already knew. Still, for Smeagol, she said nothing to Deagol.

When they were a few yards away from the village they reluctantly stepped away from each other and walked to his house, not so much as looking at each other. As they passed by, Hope couldn't help but notice how people glanced at her suggestively, having just seen her return with Smeagol from the woods... just the two of them. But she gave them no thought. She had done nothing wrong and that was all that mattered.
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(A/N: you know the drill. R&R, por favor! Cheers! Oh, and check out my blong on my myspace for the cool cover I made for this fic. Yeah... I have a lot of free time. Cheers again!)