The next morning, Smeagol and Hope slept in late, both exhausted from the previous night. Deagol met up with them eventually that afternoon by the Anduin, and they told him the entire story or what happened.
"Is she going to be alright?" he asked, still in complete shock.
"I think she is," said Hope. "The family who took her seems to love her, and she looks happy. I think she'll be fine."
"What about you two?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "I know you two had an argument yesterday." Hope smiled and blushed, and Smeagol snickered to himself.
"We're fine," he muttered. "Everything's going to be alright." Deagol glanced at Hope suspiciously, and she turned redder, much to his amusement.
"Hope, you're not wearing black," he said to change the subject. Hope, who hadn't really noticed before, realized she wasn't. She only had on a baby blue T-shirt and jeans. She secretly thought she looked pretty when she looked in the mirror that morning.
"I guess I didn't need it, today," she said softly.
"You look nice," he complemented. "You always look so pale in black. But today you look nice."
"Thanks." She smiled to herself as she reclined by the shore and allowed her barefeet to touch the water.
