Figwit, Part 1 - by Oculus

[Oculusfluffy]

~Figwit, the Water-Horse~
by Oculus

PART 1

~

The shape of a wizened hand hovers above a stream, its fingers dancing above the ripples of the water
with the movement of each finger, the waters continue to tremble as, slowly, a mass of water starts to hover above the stream
clad in grey, his beard shimmering in the morning sun, the wizard sees the mighty figures of the water-horses approach him
as he continues to manipulate the mass, the water-horses kneel before him, then depart
bowing his head down, in acknowledgement of their gift, the wizard sees the mass of water slowly take form
and the wizards sees a wisp of life enter into the mass, slowly giving rise to “shape”

as the mass continues to hove above the stream, the wizard takes out a bag
in it is bits of sand, flesh and bone, the latter taken from scrapings of deceased horses
using his staff, the wizard slowly guides the flesh and bone to the mass of water, as it becomes a miniature horse

“Peep… peep.”

Nestled above a bed of water, hovering above the ground, the wizard reaches his hand into the “bed” and grasps the baby fluffy in his hands
the water falls, rejoining the stream

in the distance, the wizard can see the herd of water-horses galloping in the stream, returning to the palace of Ulmo, Lord of Waters.

~

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit
not a nasty, dirty, wet hole filled with ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort

However, the hobbit who lived here was not living in comfort
most of his family, including his father and mother, had long perished
and he was constantly plagued by relatives who sought for his estate

but the real cause of his discomfort was an object in his possession
something he had acquired a long time ago, from an adventure that he had no wish to partake in, and 'til now remained an adventure he wished to forget
to deal with it, he keeps writing in a giant red tome, which he uses to chronicle his adventure
but with each day, he feels drawn to the trinket that lays hidden within his abode
an object of power that belongs to something far greater, and far more malevolent
and long wishes to return to his master

“Billbo! Bilbo, are you there?”

Bilbo Baggins hears the banging of the front door, and with it, the voice of that old wizard from his childhood

“Gandalf! Hold a moment!”

Bilbo proceeds to the front door
Opening it, he is greeted with the figure of Gandalf the Grey, the conjurer of tricks and a well-known figure within The Shire
but today, Gandalf seemed to be holding something in his left hand, with the right on his staff

“What is that, Gandalf?”
“We can talk more over tea.”

~

“Chirp… chirp…”

seated comfortably, Gandalf strokes the newborn, feeling its lack of fluff against his skin

“What is that, Gandalf?”
“Oh this, Bilbo? Its a baby pony.”

Bilbo is taken aback. Being of the Shire, the hobbits do raise ponies, as they make good steeds for their kind
however, this particular foal is like nothing he’s ever seen
he can recognize the horse hoofs, but the shape of its body, its stocky legs, and its unusual snout, looks like nothing that he had seen before

“I might not be a farmer, but I’ve seen foals been born before, and that doesn’t look like a foal to me.”

Gandalf gives a light laugh

“Well, Master Baggins, this here is a fluffy pony.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“We have another name for these creatures in Quenya, but for the sake of simplicity, you can call them “fluffies”. They are fashioned after the ponies you know, but are much smaller, and were kept as pets in a bygone era.”

“That’s all fascinating, Gandalf, but why exactly did you bring this creature here?”
“Well, Master Baggins, to my understanding, you are nearing a ninety years of age, and yet, are still single, are you not?”
“Alas, yes. I have no time for women, and the women of the Shire seem to be devoid of, something.”
“Indeed, and in the past few decades I’ve noticed, you’ve become increasingly lonely.”

Bilbo feels a slight tinge in his heart, as he slowly nods

“I suppose.”

“Well, I would like to offer you a gift.”
“Why this animal then? Why not a dog or a cat?”

“Well, these creatures, these fluffies, are blessed with the gift of speech. If you train them long and well enough, they are capable of the Common Speech. Considering your current state, I would like to donate this humble creature to you as a companion for you to raise.”

Gandalf beckons Bilbo to open the palms of his hand, as he places the tiny fluffy foal in the hobbit’s palm
though the hobbit’s palm is much smaller than the wizard’s, the baby foal still fits snugly into Bilbo’s palm, as it continues to chirp, its eyes still closed

“Chirp… chirp…”

“What do I feed this fluffy, Gandalf?”
“Well, fluffies are a bit more trained to eat normal Hobbit food, but, in this stage, you need to feed them milk. As they grow older, you’ll be able to feed it other food, but they have a penchant for enjoying spaghetti.”
“Spaghetti?”
“It is an old Numenorean recipe. It is forgotten to most Men, but the recipe should be surfacing in the taverns of Hobbiton eventually. I will be fetching an ancient form of the recipe for you to cook at home.”
“What does this ‘spaghetti’ even taste like?”
“Very savoury, especially if eaten with cheese and a good amount of beef.”

As Gandalf proceeds to head out of the door, Bilbo, still cradling the fluffy in his hand, remains confused about the whole situation

“Gandalf, I still do not understand. Why are you giving me this creature?”

Gandalf remains silent, as he walks out of the door.

~

Its been about a week since Bilbo received the fluffy from Gandalf
the miniature “horse” creature is still developing, and regularly needs to be fed with milk, of which Bilbo had an ample supply
it spends most of its time asleep

that night, Bilbo decided to go to the local tavern for dinner
while at the tavern, he was surprised to see that they were serving some new dish on the menu
it was hard to perceive but, according to a random Proudfoot he talked to, the dish was something like long strips of pastry, boiled then cooked in a sauce made of tomatoes and beef
apparently, this dish was called “spaghetti”

Just like what Gandalf said, thought Bilbo.

it was foreign, and not quite the same as the salted pork and minced pies that Bilbo was accustomed to, and yet, this dish didn’t feel too out of place from traditional hobbit cuisine.
with every mouthful and morsel that Bilbo consumed, he could definitely sense a comfort in the food, perhaps reflection of the Men who invented it

~

Bilbo recognized him
the brown hair. the blue eyes
it was his second cousin, Drogo

“Cousin Bilbo, its been so long!”

But Drogo was not the person Bilbo was surprised to see
standing by his side, holding a face that masked a little cautiousness, was Primula Brandybuck
Primula had taken a fascination to Bilbo at one point, but Bilbo got involved in the adventure with the party of dwarves
where most of Hobbiton though Bilbo to be dead, Primula held to the hope that Bilbo was still alive, and thus, was ecstatic when he returned
however, Bilbo upon his return was a changed hobbit. He spent most of his time in his own world, writing his book, and minding his own business
during this time, Drogo took a liking to Primula, and seeing what she liked in the old Bilbo in Drogo, developed a relationship with Drogo instead

“What are you doing these days, Bill? Still writing that book?”

Drogo was a waiting for his two plates of spaghetti to be served

“Yes, Prim. Writing that book. Also, trying to understand the runes and the elvish language I came across along the way.”

Primula remained stand-offish. While Bilbo understood that he became distant and aloof to the woman, in his mind, it could not be helped. He had been involved in a journey that no one in Hobbiton would understand. To the humble hobbit, who only cared for peace, quiet and good-tilled Earth, that nonsense with Gollum, the business with the dragon, and the slaughter at the Battle of the Five Armies was something he or she would gladly do without
And yet, there was something about Primula being with Drogo that bothered him

“Do you ever feel lonely, Bill?”

that question stung at Bilbo’s heart. He had been asked this question before. But there was something about it being asked, now, that bothered him

“I’m currently engaged to Drogo, and we’re making the preparations soon.”
“Well thats good news!”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” says Primula, masking a little frustration.

Bilbo is not enjoying his conversation. It makes him remember a time when Primula asked him when he was going to put aside the book, the maps he had been working on, and the weird stories of the bigger folk that he had been obsessed with
but she just wouldn’t understand
and yet, as Primula spends her happy moments with Drogo, Bilbo could not help but feel that he had wasted an opportunity

~

Bilbo was back at home
staring out of the window, at the moon, he could feel something clutching at his heart

Put it on. Put on the ring. Disappear into the night. Go on another ad-

“Peep… peep…”

The baby was calling to him

“Coming… coming…”

the little foal was a big bigger. Bilbo stroked his back and gave it a little massage, coaxing it back to sleep

“There, there, little one. Papa’s here, you’re safe and sound.”

~

As Bilbo continued to care for the creature in his charge, he was still unsure as to what it was exactly
Gandalf had described it as the foal of a type of horse, but, at this point, and despite the hooves, the sounds it made, especially when it cried for milk, or for quiet, and for attention, reminded it of the squeaks he heard in the dark
when grasping for light. Finding his way back to the group he was contracted to
and scurrying about, in the dark, making those squeaking noises

“Its like a little rat.”

well, maybe not exactly a rat. He would compare it to a mouse, but in it this state, and with its lack of fur, it just didn’t feel like a foal, despite the very clear presence of horse hooves
the foal continued to subsist on a diet of milk. Two weeks after he received him, it opened its eyes, and displayed an innate curiosity. However, its weak body meant that it had to remain in the cot, and Bilbo had to make sure it did not crawl out, lest it made of a mess than those dwarves did, all those years ago

~

About a month to the day when he first received the foal, , Bilbo was seated down in the living room, enjoying an evening pipe
when he heard a small cry from a cot in the kitchen

“Da…”

It sounded like the sound of a baby, making its first words in the world
since hobbits enjoy having children, the sounds of a newborn making its first words is unmistakable to the average hobbit
Bilbo himself realized this fact when he knew full well that, as a bachelor, there was no way he could have children in his household
so, if what Gandalf said was right, he should see

“Da… da…”

and true enough, the foal was starting to utter its first word.

“D-daddeh!”

was in instinctual? was it magic? Bilbo wasn’t quite sure. But whatever it was, this fluffy was clearing uttering a word in the Common Speech
the next word was a little surprising, though unmistakable

“M-miwkies…”

A day becomes a week. A week turns into a month
before Bilbo knew it, it was a full three months
and in those three months, Bilbo saw the fluffy grow from being a small, almost naked creature, that could only chirp and cry out for milk, into a bouncing, happy pony

except it didn’t look quite like a pony, given that it had an unusual amount of fur, a small nose and mouth (unlike normal horses) and, of course, it could talk
but Bilbo loved it all the same

the creature took a liking towards simplistic play. Bilbo had to procure toys from hobbit children who outgrew them, but eventually, he settled on a few dolls, a stuffed bear, and building blocks
the fluffy took the blocks with gusto, and enjoyed the simple motions of placing blocks on top of each other
at the same time, Bilbo slowly taught the little creature words
it still spoke with a recognizable lisp but, by the end of the three months, Bilbo was able to have full and proper conversations with his pet

his pet
Bilbo realized that he never gave the little creature a name

“Figwit.”
“Figwit? Wut am Figwit?”

Bilbo remembered being in the House of Elrond, where he met his daughter, Arwen, and her consort
a fairly young man, for an elf, with very striking features
who went by the name of Figwit

“Its your name, my dear. I will call you Figwit.”
"Fwuffy name am Feegwet?

Fwuffy am Feegwet!"

~

“And thus I named him, Figwit.”

its been about a year
Bilbo is having tea with Gandalf
in the year that Gandalf had been away, he had been conducting research at Minas Tirith regarding an item that, as he described, had been missing for almost an eon
as Bilbo recounted the past year he spent with Figwit, he could see a smile peer through the thick mottle grey mantle that was the wizard’s beard

“And tell me, how is Figwit doing?”
“He’s doing fine. He eats his hay and chestnuts, thought I occasionally feed him that ‘spaghetti’ when he’s a good boy. He helps me with a few errands and is rather obedient.”
“I would like very much to meet him, Master Bilbo.”
"Sure, I’ll get him.

Figwit! Fig! I have a visitor for you today!"

As Figwit waddles into the living room, the smile on Gandalf’s face slowly disappears

“Huwwo nice owd mistah!”
“Figwit, this is Gandalf. He’s a wizard!”
“Huwwo mistah Gandawf. Gandawf am a fwend of daddeh?”

Gandalf hesitates, slowly moving his head in agreement before responding, softly

“W-why. Yes. Yes I am a friend of your master.”

“Oh goodie! Nice mistah am gunna stay for wong and pway upsies wif Figwet?”
“No, I’m afraid not, Master Figwit.”
“M-massa?”

oh dear, silently though Gandalf.

“Bilbo, I have to leave.”
“Oh alright, Gandalf, but you’ve only been here for a while.”
“Well, as you should know by now, us wizards have matters to attend to. And please, take good care of Figwit.”

And within minutes, Gandalf was on his carriage, the horses trotting away from Bag End.

“Daddeh, fwend Gandawf am angwy wif fwuffy?”
"Oh no, Figwit. You did nothing wrong.

But I wonder why he had to leave in such a hurry."

~

a gentle but steady flame flickered from the fireside, as Bilbo, seated in his rocking chair, threw his hands about
Figwit, his eyes wide open and mouth agape, listened in awe to the story his master was telling him

“And there I was in the bowels of Erebor, with all the gold and monies surrounding me.”
“Monies? Wike, wat daddeh use to get nummies from mawket?”
"Yes! So many monies, and so much gold.

But, underneath all that gold, there was this huge dragon, lurking beneath…"

~

As Bilbo recollects his tale, Figwit imagined himself, as a lone fluffy, in Erebor
in the halls of the mountain king

as he tries to gingerly step through the hoard of the dwarven people, he sees the visage of a terrible eye, peering through the riches
and a deep voice bellowing throughout the vaults

“Well, thief! I smell you and I feel your air. I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!”

“It otay, mistah Smawg. Fwuffy am hewe onwy to wook at nice dwagon.”
“Do you now?”

the dragon retorts at the fluffy’s response

“O Smaug, biggest and smawtest o’ dwagons, aww da hummehs and ewf-fwens am scawedy of.”
“You seem familiar with my name, you simpleton of a horse! But I don’t seem to remember smelling you from before.”

And as Bilbo continues to narrate the tale of his journey there and back again, Figwit’s mind continues to be filled with awe and adventure, mustering in him a desire for a world that, while he may never reach, he feels content, listening to from his master.

~

deep within the heart of Rivendell, the Council of the Wise had assembled once again
this time, this meeting was called for by Gandalf
given the rather hurried nature of the meeting, Radaghast the brown, and two of Elrond’s elf-lords could not attend. Only Galadriel, Elrond, and Gandalf’s senior, Saruman the White, were available

for a while now, Gandalf had been trying to convene a council since the failed attack on Dol Guldur, but Saruman and Elrond often declined, citing other matters
and Saruman was one of the first to voice his dissent at this council

“And what significance is it that Bilbo found a magic ring during his time at Erebor? You and I both know that rings that granted stealth were common during the Second Age.”
“Yes, but to prolong life? Bilbo has not aged a day since his time at Erebor. No mere trinket can grant that longevity.”
“Perhaps, but what makes you think it is not one of the dwarven rings of power?”
“The enemy has accounted for three of them, while the other four had been destroyed. If Bilbo had a ring of the Dwarves, we would have known it by now. This leaves me to consider that Bilbo, at the very least, has one of the Nine, and one of those rings alone will eat and gnaw at his soul.”

Saruman gives a mocking laugh. Elrond, though more understanding, shared the same skepticism

“Master Gandalf, while I understand your concern, I think that the matters of Master Bilbo, wise and valuable as he was, should no longer affect us. As a Halfling of the Shire, I think he played his part well enough, and may not seek to participate further.”
“Tell them, Gandalf.”

Galadriel’s voice, mature, but eternally youthful, rang out. Gandalf sighed
“I met with the horses of the Bruinen, and they agreed to bestow to me one of their newborn. Utilizing an ancient ritual from the time of the First Age, I provided a material form to the foal, and brought it to Bilbo to care.”
“A cheap trick, Gandalf. I fail to see how your conjuration has any bearing on the events at hand.”

"A water-horse usually reaches maturity within a year. They reach a speaking age after three months but, by the end of year, assume an adult form, and have command of the Common Speech.

However, the foal in Bilbo’s care has not aged. It is in an unusual prepubescent form - not fully mature, but also no longer a foal."
“So, what exactly are you insinuating, oh Gandalf, conjurer of cheap tricks?”
“What I am suggesting, is that the ring in Bilbo’s care is not some mere ring of stealth. I feel it has more power then just as a mere magic trinket, and it may be, at very least, connected to one of the rings of power, For it to be able to affect the aging of a water-horse is rather serious, and I think that the herd of the Bruinen will not take kindly to the current state of one of their kin.”

having heard Gandalf’s reasoning, Elrond reassessed his position

“The Master of the Bruinen made his decision when he bequeathed his charge to you. The herd serves Ulmo, the Lord of Waters, and Ulmo has always expressed interest and concern regarding matters among Men and Elves. Besides, Master Saruman, if the Ring was sent into the Sea, we would have received some form of message from the Lord of Waters.”

As Saruman scowls, Gandalf smiles a bit

“Indeed., Master Elrond. I feel that the Ruling Ring is still at large, and with the current numbers of the Nazgul uncertain, I feel that there is much more to the trinket in Bilbo’s possession than we know of.”
“In that case, we have to continue monitoring the state of Bilbo’s foal. At the same time, I will send my scouts to find the Gollum creature who held this trinket and see what he knows.”

~

about a week has passed since the meeting with Gandalf
Bilbo had invited another person over this his little hobbit-hole
this time, it was a couple

“Cousin Drogo!”

Drogo had been married to Primula for about a year now
and Primula had a surprise of her own

“Daddeh! Nice wady am hav tummy babbehs!”

Upon hearing the little foal speak, Drogo fell to the floor
his face displaying visible shock, he could not help but utter his confusion

“Did that animal just talk?!”

It was a surprising thing. But, after Bilbo served some tea, and cakes, he was able to explain the origin of the unusual pet

“A talking horse! That is quite the wonder.”
“Well, it can’t compare to what I saw at the Lonely Mountain, and I have seen my fair share of talking eagles, ravens and dragons, so, a talking horse from a wizard like Gandalf seems a little, natural.”
"You say its natural but, for us quiet folk in the Shire, this is the kind of wizardry we prefer to be without.

Has anyone else seen this Figwit of yours?"

As the two men continue to converse, Primula is busy playing a game of upsies with Figwit

“Not many. Figwit prefers to stay at home, but I’ve taken him for the occasional walk at night. Because he looks a bit like a chubby pony, so far, I’ve not seen too many people comment about him, as long as he doesn’t talk.”

Drogo raised an eyebrow, as he noticed way Figwit babbled during the game of upsies

“I take it was difficult to get him to be quiet outside?”
"Oh hardly! Figwit has been a rather good boy. I usually promise a plate of spaghetti if he’s quiet outside, and that has done the trick.

Anyway, I see that Primula is expecting."

“Yes I am.”

Primula says this, as she cradles Figwit in her arm
she goes up to Drogo, and lets her husband caress her womb, feeling the presence of the hobbit-to-be within

“And what’s the name you’re thinking of for the lucky soul?”
“Well, if its a girl, we’ll call her Ruby. If its a boy, we’ll call him, Frodo.”

~

at the city of Minas Tirith there is a library that holds reams of documents
some are books that stem from the Third Age, some scrolls from the second age
and a few scraps and particles memories of the long forgotten First Age

as of late, Gandalf has been tasked with trying to understand the Gollum creature that Bilbo talked of
despite Bilbo’s description as an ungainly creature, skulking in the dark, Gandalf had a suspicion that the creature that was Gollum may have once been a hobbit
the libraries of Minas Tirith hold with it censuses which date back ages, of which the Shire is included, as the Halflings (or Hobbits, as they call themselves) are often considered among the race of Men

while searching through the censuses, Gandalf was surprised to see someone else in the library with him

“Saruman!”
“Ah, Master Gandalf. Working on more conjurations, I presume?”

Gandalf took a peak at a document that the White Wizard had in his hand
it seemed to be that Saruman was doing research into the Palantir

“Why are you researching the Palantir?”
“That is a matter for another time. What you should be wondering, is why you resorted to such a conjuration with the water horse?”

Gandlaf puffed his cheeks, He had taken a liking to pipeweed and, at the moment, had a desire to consume some of it. To feel the soothing taste of the smoke upon his mouth

“I felt that Master Bilbo was lonely. An eccentric individual, he had distanced himself from most of Bag End. I did have the other motive of investigating the trinket he currently owns, but I was thinking of providing him with a friend.”
“You do realize that you have partaken in a somewhat forbidden ritual?”

Gandalf’s face was now one of concern. As a wizard, he was tasked with maintaining a sanctity in Middle-Earth, given the true purpose of his kin

“I fail to understand, Saruman.”
“Tell me, Gandalf, do you know how the orc came to be?”
“Saruman, I fail to see how that is relevant.”

“Let me elaborate. Orcs were the creation of Morgoth, when he wanted to mimic the creation of Illuvatar. So, upon taking their corpses of the Eldar, the firstborn, he defiled them, then remade them into the form that we call the ‘orc’. A perversion of Life, meant to mock Illuvatar’s work.”

Gandalf’s face is a bit stern, as he suspects something that Saruman is about to accuse him

“What are you suggesting?”
"You know for a fact that, aside from Elf and Man, the other free spirits of Middle-Earth are considered to be the Dwarves, the children of Aule, the Ents, the children of Yavanna and the Eagles, the children of Manwe. However, few documents have mentioned that the horses, specifically the river horses, are the free children of Ulmo, Lord of Waters. Although he gave form to the land horse as a gift to Men, the wild water horse was intended to be an independent spirit.

That spell you came across, was not of Numenor. It was of Mordor. Just as Morgoth wanted to mock the image of the elves, he devised a spell that allowed him to subjugate a water horse by mixing it in with the entrails and remains of deceased horses. That thing you created is a devilry of Mordor. How else do you think the Nazgul obtained such loyal steeds?"

“But Figwit merely adopted the flesh! He had an independent spirit before I placed him within the body.”
“Ah yes, but have you ever considered what Melkor placed with the flesh of the first orcs? Have you read about the Kinslayings?”

Gandalf is silent. Saruman continued.

“I know you meant well in presenting a gift to your halfling friend. But I fear you may have some disservice, especially considering if one of your suspicions about Bilbo’s trinket is correct.”

~

Figwit has not been sleeping well
for the first nine years of his life, he has had a life of bliss with his “father”, Bilbo
and every night, after listening to Bilbo’s many stories about ewves, dwawves and da nasty dwagon, he would have good sleep

but lately, in the dreamie place, he sees another fluffy
the fluffy looks exactly like him
but more haggard, his teeth misshapen
and continuously defecating

“Gib daddeh Da Wing, o’ git sowwy huwties!”

As the fluffy keeps saying this, his eyes start to red, and then glow
and the burst into flame

as the dream progresses, Figwit comes before the figure of a giant, burning reptilian eye, looking direct into him, and speaking in his language

"Gib Daddeh Sauwon da Wing.

GIVE ME MY RING."

~

Figwit never told Bilbo about the nightmare
At most, he would say he saw a scary monster, his little mind unaware of a larger world beyond the Shire
of an age old war between the free peoples of Middle Earth and Mordor
and of the One Ring, a device of Sauron, which was part of his desire to subjugate the lands of Middle-Earth under his command

but to Figwit, the only thing he understood it was as a scary monster in his sleep, which resulted in an unfortunate mess in his sleeping area
often a time, Bilbo had to wake up and calm the fluffy down
and give him a nice bath
then sing a lullaby to him, one his own mother sang

“Wub 'out too, daddeh.”

It was enough to calm Figwit each night

but the night terrors remained

~

There was one story that Bilbo never told Figwit
he had told him about their capture by the Wood Elves. The Dragon. The Battle of the Five Armies

but Bilbo had yet to tell Figwit about Gollum
because, there was something frightening about Gollum that Bilbo wanted to forget. Even when he faced the orcs or Smaug, he had an idea of where they came from. The orcs, or goblins as the Shire called them, were the servants of the Necromancer (who was revealed to be Sauron). And Smaug was a dragon, a descendant of the dreaded Ancalagon the Black

but Bilbo knew nothing of Gollum. Where he came from, or how he came to be what he looked like. When he told his story to Gandalf, even Gandalf was unsure as to what Gollum was

“From the way you describe him, he sounds like a hobbit.”

Bilbo balked at the idea
what sort of hobbit lives in the water, preys on orc and men alike, and eats fish raw?
what sort of ungainly process would turn a hobbit into a creature like Gollum?

And yet, Bilbo knew that, if he kept that fear to himself, he would never be able to deal with his own fear of the creature
nor the fact that the ring he had, which had helped him so much during his time in Thorin’s company, was a stolen item, most likely of Gollum’s

perhaps, if he told the story to Figwit, once and for all, he might feel better about it

~

A low burning fire illuminated Bilbo. Huddled next to him was Figwit, who was listening to a new story his master had form him.

“Daddeh wuz wost?”
"Yes Figwit. I was trying to find my way in the cave.

And that was when I met him.

Deep down in the dark water live old Gollum, a small slimy creature, I don’t know where he came from, nor who what he was. All I remember was that he had two big round pale eyes, a thin face, and he kept making a ‘gollum’ sound in his throat whenever he talked.

Gollum challenged me to a game of riddles. If I were to pass his game of riddles, I would be let off. If he were to win, well, he would have his way with me."

As Bilbo narrated his encounter with Gollum to Figwit, Figwit started imagining what Gollum may have looked like
However, to Figwit, he imagine Gollum as a type of fluffy, that had hooves and a similar small stature, like himself
except that, and due to years of living in the cave, all the fluff on his body had been gone
Leaving only a smooth slimy skin.

As Figwit imagined himself as Bilbo, meeting Gollum for the first time, he could imagine hear the hiss of the gremlin of a fluffy

“Sss Bwess us wit’ wawa, pweshus! Fwuff am hab gud nummies dis dawkie time, gollum!”
“Gu way scawy munstah!”
“Sss… fwuffy wike widdwes, pwaps fwuffy does, yes?”
"Otay.

Munstah ask fiwst."

Gollum asked the first riddle

“Wut taww ting nu fwuffy see
tawwer than twees,
up, up it goes,
and yet ne’er gwows?”

Bilbo-Figwit knew the answer to this one, having seen a number of them in Shire

“Hiww!”

~

This munstah aww things it nummies,
twees, fwowers, fwens, biwdies,
tuwn iwon into wust,
gwind hawd wock to dust,
kiww smawties, wuins hewd
no wun, man ow fwuffy, can huwt?"

Poor Figwit sat in the dark, thinking of all the horrible names if ogres and giants. Although Bilbo was smiling, his wicked glee seemed to match the look of the gollum fluffy in his imagination.

the only thing that was in Figwit’s mind was “gib fwuffy mowe time!”

“Time! Time!”

And Bilbo smiled, Figwit got it right
Gollum fluffy was disappointed. For of course, that was the correct answer
Bilbo, however, did not know what riddle to ask Gollum

“Mowe widdwe! Gib widdwes!”

Bilbo then asked Gollum the question

“What hab fwuffy got in pocket?”

the Gollum fluffy shrieked

“Screee! Nu faiw! Nu faiw!”

“What hab fwuffy got in pocket?"

“Sssss… gib three guesses, pweshus!”

“Nummies!”
“Wrong.”
“Hoofsies!”
“Oso wrong.”

Gollum fluffy tried his best to think what a fluffy would have in his pocket.

“Stwing…or…nuffin.”
“Boff wrong! Fwuffy am winnah!”

Gollum fluffy shrieks and laments. He had to agree to guide Bilbo back towards the light

It was a delightful story, but there was one unanswered question

“Bu’ daddeh, wut did daddeh hab in pocket pwace?”

Bilbo remained silent

~

Two nights have passed
Figwit’s mind keeps dwelling on what may have been in Bilbo’s pocket
if it wasn’t his hand, food or money, just what did he have in his pocket?

as the question kept dwelling in his mind, Figwit hear footsteps in the living room
getting up, he slowly trudges up, feeling curious

In the darkness, Bilbo had lit a candle
against the small flicker of light, Bilbo was holding up what seemed like a small ring
He whispers, as he admires his little trinket

“My precious…”

Bilbo keeps caressing the ring for a while, before placing it back in his drawer, then blowing off the candle
as he retreats to his bedroom, Figwit ponders as to what was special about the ring he saw

he could feel the Ring calling out to him

TO BE CONTINUED

[Oculusfluffy]

What was originally supposed to be a simple tribute piece in memory of Ian Holm ended up beocming a three parter . This story was also inspired by an old piece by Carpdime.

This piece does take liberties with the canon of the Lord of the Rings, and mixes elements from both the books, and the Jackson movies. However, the emphasis here was more to tell a story about Bilbo looking after a fluffy. There are also two scenes from this part that I plan to elaborate on and write in more detail some time later in the future.

People who want the greentext version of this story can read it on the Reddit or on my Pastebin

[Shadowfox]

this is all kinds of cute and nostalgic, thank you for writing it.

[Maxwolfox]

In your profile picture what character is it