Back at the house the two sat there eating whatever they wanted. Smeagol sat back, chewing on some bread while Hope crunched into an apple.

"So," asked Smeagol. "Do you have any family?"

"I did," she answered. How could she possibly explain to him without sounding insane?

"What happened?"

"I left. My dad was just getting on my nerves and my mom was being a jerk."

"A jerk?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"An ass," she said, knowing he'd probly understand. He chuckled and shrugged.

"I understand fully," he said, laughing. "Where do you plan to go?"

"Not sure," she answered. "Maybe I'll settle down here. I'll have to if I am to teach Deagol how to play guitar. Once I have the money I'll get my own home or something."

"What about finding a husband and starting a family?" he asked.

"Haven't really thought that out yet. I'm a little young to be getting married, don't you think?"

"Why? How old are you?"

"Fifteen as of last week."

"Girls your age are already getting married," said Smeagol. Her jaw dropped and she almost gagged.

"Wow. Things really are different here. How old are you?" she asked.

"I just turned eighteen." So he still had a while before he'd kill Deagol.

"So you're only three years older than me. Happy be-lated birthday." He chuckled and she smiled.

"Same to you." She smiled and held up her water glass. "Cheers." He gently clacked his glass with hers and they both drank.

"So, if you were to get married, how long are you planning to wait?"

"I dunno," she said, shrugging. "Where I came from it was usually in your early twenties or so, but now that I'm here, I don't know. Probably in a year or so. Depends on the guy."

"And what would you look for in a guy?" he said, emphasizing 'guy'.

"Someone that really cares. A guy who would love me until I die. You know, who, sixty years from now when I'm all saggy and gray and old looking, still looks at me and sees a queen that captivates him." She smiled to herself and shook her head. "If there was such a thing, anyway." Smeagol smiled and nodded.

"Most women here look for a man with a lot of money. Not like what you just described though."

"I guess I sound crazy then."

"No!" he cut in. "Not at all. I think it's wise what you're looking for. I think you'll end up happier than most girls do."

"I wouldn't go that far, but thanks anyway." She took the last bite of her apple and looked at the core, not sure what to do with it.

"Give it here," said Smeagol, reaching for it. She handed it to him and he walked up to the window and threw it out. There was soon the thundering sound of dogs barking and running to the applecore. "The neighbor's dogs will eat anything." Hope nodded and smiled.

"Sounds like me. That's where all the fat came from." She slapped her stomach and Smeagol made a face.

"What? You're not fat!" She just started laughing and shook her head.

"That's okay. It's not like I've never seen myself in the mirror."

"Then I hope you're taken aback because you're pretty." She almost fell over laughing with this.

"Okay. Now I've heard everything." She smiled at him. "I like you. You're not bad, Smeag."

"You're a decent person as well." She smiled and thanked him. "So, you play the guitar quite well."

"Really?" she asked.

"Oh, yes. I was impressed. Would you like to go tonight out by the river and play some more? It's very peaceful at night." She smiled at him suspiciously and then nodded.

"Sure," she said kindly. "That sounds good."

"all right," he said smiling. "Well, I'd love to continue our conversation, but right now I have to go to work. I have a job as well."

"And what would that be?"
"I'm teaching a little girl to read and write." Hope's eyes widened.

"Really? I never really pegged you as the literate type." He shrugged.

"Here," he pulled out a piece of paper and quill and jotted down an address. "This is where I'll be if you need anything." He handed it to her, grabbed his jacket off the hook on the wall and waved good-bye and left. She waited till he was gone and then went back to her room and fell asleep on the bed.