Figwit, Part 2 - by Oculus

~Figwit, the Water-Horse~
by Oculus


Continued from Part 1


“Oooh, ooh, Figwit wuv stowee! Teww another stowy, daddeh!”

I want to kill this fluffy so badly

That was the line of thought crossing the element of Sauron’s mind and soul, which had existed in the Ruling Ring
for ages he laid at the river Anduin, forgotten
his initial plan to control Isildur and his descendants failed when the Numenorean was slain at the river
in a slight miscalculation, Sauron betrayed Isildur at the Anduin in the hopes that the orcs would pick him
but alas, the orcs of the world remain fearful of rivers - not only because of the natural water, but because of the water-horses that roam free among them

he had tried to subjugate Isildur, and then the hobbit Smeagol. His intention was now turned to this bumbling fool living in this disgusting paradise that these pathetic little creatures had built for themselves
these little creatures, these hobbits

Sauron laughs to himself, as he eyed carefully the water-horse that the Maiar, Olorin, had bestowed upon Bilbo
it reminded him of brief memories from both the first and second age
of a gift that was given to Ar-Pharazon, that was sported by the Numenoreans
of the creature that was taken from the creatures of Ulmo, but twisted, and through torture, made into mere playthings
in many ways, these “hobbits” were clearly like fluffies
shorter versions of men, the way the fluffies are smaller versions of horses
backward, dull, reproducing ever so quickly, simple-minded and averse to learning

but Sauron knew that his lieutenants and servants in Mordor were awaiting, and his armies are mustering.
all he needed to do, was reconnect with anyone of his Nine Servants
and, much like men - fluffies are easily corruptible


the little hobbit child eyed his surroundings
a precocious being at the age of six, this was his first time, entering this house
he too came from a similar Hobbit Hole, but his parents did not have the kind of money that this relative of his did

he could hear the grown-ups in the distance speak
it was all in vague mumbles, which he could not understand properly


“So, Frodo is six?”
“Aye. He was a bit small when he was born, but, he seems to be doing fine.”
For a hobbit child he was quite slim."
“Aye, and I remembered the day when he was born.”
“I remember it too.”

As Primula says this, she lifts up her blouse, to expose a portion of her abdomen to Bilbo
Although indecent, Bilbo could see the reason behind Primula’s action
a clear scar was along the abdomen, indicating a rare delivery amongst the hobbit-folk

“The village doctor said that Frodo was entangled in a cord, and would be drownded. So he had to perform the operation on Primula.”
“I didn’t know such a thing was possible!”
“Neither did I! And by the Old Took, I have no idea how I was able to survive it. But painful as it was, my little Frodo came into the world.”



Frodo is a little surprised, as he hears the words coming from the pony

“H-hewwo. I am Fwodo. Papa neba said that horsies could talk.”
“Figwit nu am howse. Figwit am a fwufffy!”
“A fwuffy? What is a fwuffy?”
“Figwit am a fwuffy!”

Frodo wasn’t sure if he could explain to the fluffy that he was a talking pony, albeit with a smaller body, a lot more fur, and with a limited speech pattern

“Figwit wuv daddeh! Daddeh teww Figwit aww kinds o’ stowies! Wike da dwagon!”
“Papa says that unca Biwbo is odd.”
“Daddeh nu am ‘odd’! Daddeh Biwbo am bestest daddeh!”

Looking at Frodo, he then had an idea for a game

“Fwodo fwen wike ta pway howsies?”

Frodo was a little confused, since earlier, Figwit claimed that he wasn’t a horse


“Well, cousin Bilbo, Prim and I need to head back.
Frodo, come-”

Frodo was not seated at his chair

“Frodo? Frodo?!!”


Frodo was seated on Figwit’s back, as the little fluffy gave the toldder a quick ride around about Bilbo’s hole

this was one of the few times that Frodo had met Figwit
eventually, Drogo and Primula settled in another area of the Shire
but that memory of Bilbo’s pet, that unusual talking horse remained in his memory for years to come.


In the time that Sauron had been at the house at Bag End, he had been eyeing the routine of his captor, Bilbo Baggins, as well as the machination of Mithrandir through the water-horse that he provided
in the past year, Sauron had been assailing Figwit with terrible nightmares, displaying the full power of Mordor

and yet, Figwit did not yield
for every time the water-horse awoke, he would make a mess of himself, and find himself sleeping in Bilbo’s arms

Sauron needed a new approach
and then he remembered that, for far too long, he was mimicking the ways of his master, the great Morgoth, who once was Melkor
however, Sauron’s subjugation of the Nine required a certain touch, something that spoke of tact and promise
Though he had forgotten it, Sauron slowly began to remember the guise of Annatar, and how it served him


It was three years since Figwit’s last encounter with Frodo
but the memory of giving the young child a ride throughout the house stuck by him

though he had bad dreams, on some occasions, Figwit would have a happy dream, of running through the fields of Shire, with Frodo on his back
as he kept running, he could see himself competing against the other ponies of the Shire
though hey looked nothing like him, nor did they speak the Common Speech, they too had hooves, and they too could whinny
as he kept up with them, he saw a magnificent image of a white horse
the white horse beckoned to him to follow it, and Figwit would do so, galloping through the field

however, as the dream continued, Figwit could no longer feel Frodo on his back
turning back, Figwit came to realize that the child had disappeared
turning to the front again, he sees the forest coming before him
a forest filled with shadow and uncertainty

in the distance, the white stallion neighs loudly, warning him against entering
but Figwit’s legs, though stubby, are moving rapidly in the dream


and for a moment, there is dark.

But Figwit did not get up
for a brief moment, Figwit realizes he is dreaming
and as he does this, he finds himself in a land of white

“Snow! Fwuffy am cowd! But fwuffy wuv snow!”

And as Figwit started to play in the snow, the feelings of the cold left him
in the brief moment that he thought he was in control of his dream, he is enamoured by the blanket of icy white
As Figwit continued to play in the snow, that brief moment of lucidity is gone


As Figwit kept frolicking in the snow, he could hear the sound of bells
He listened as the sound came nearer and nearer
and soon, before him the source of the bells were before him

the bells adorned a black stallion
this particular horse was taller than the ponies of the Shire, but shorter than the horses of the people of the Bywater
the black horse seemed familiar to Figwit somehow


the stallion did not answer, merely glaring at Figwit with its red eyes
Figwit then noticed that the stallion was shackled by a yoke, which, through a lone, strong rope, was pulling a sledge

seated on the sledge was a person, very different from any hobbit, dwarf or human that Figwit knew
for Figwit had heard the tales about “ewves” from Bilbo and, judging from his slender figure, and his ears shaped like leaves, this was clearly one
his face was white—not merely pale, but white like snow or paper or icing sugar
he wore an armour of sorts that shone brightly like the sun
and he bore a demeanour that was warm, yet cold and stern

“And what, pray, are you?” the elf demanded of Figwit.

“F-f-fwuffy name am Figwet,” said Figwit rather timidly. The fluffy could not bring himself to look upon the radiance of the elf.

“Is that how you address a King?!” he bellowed

“Fwuffy am sowwee, o’ kind ewf mistah”

“Not know the King of Middle-Earth?” said the elf in a mocking voice, as he continued, “Ha! You will learn soon. But I repeat—what are you? You have hooves, but you do not look like any pony I know.”
“Figwet nu am ponee ow howse. Figwit am a fwuffy pony.”

The elf-lord laughed mockingly, knowing full well Figwit’s poor understanding

“A fluffy! So, are you saying you are a Son of Nahar, and one of the children of Ulmo?”

Figwit stood still, saying nothing. He was too confused by the elf-lord’s words

“I see you are an idiot, whatever else you may be,” said the elf-lord, continuing in his mocking tone, "Answer me, once and for all, or I shall lose my patience.

How did you come here?"

“Fwuffy am widing with fwen Fwodo, then got wost in fowest. 'Den fwuffy pway in snow. Then fwuffy meet ewf mistah.”

"I see.

My poor fluffy," the elf said, this time in a gentler, more reassuring voice, “how cold you look. Come and sit with me here on the sledge and I will put my mantle around you and we will talk.”

Figwit was too frightened to disobey, so he stepped on to the sledge and sat at his feet. Out of nowhere, the elf pulled out a fur mantle around Figwit and tucked it well in.

“You look hungry, little fluffy.”

As he says this, the elf reached into his armour and, in a fashion only understood in dreams, pulled out a silver box. Opening it, Figwit could see several pounds of sort of sweet, coated in icing sugar.

“Eat this, little fluffy. It is called Easterling’s delight.”

Each piece was sweet and light to the very centre and Figwit had never tasted anything more delicious. Not even his favoured sketti came as close to this. Figwit was getting increasingly warm, and a lot more comfortable.

“Son of Nahar, your master has a trinket that belongs to me.”
“A wut? Fwuffy nu understan’.”

The elf-lord rolled his eyes

"It is a bright, glowy thingy. A ‘bwightie fwen’ he calls “precious.”
“Oh! Da pweshus!”

“Yes, fluffy,” says the elf-lord, smiling. “The precious belongs to me.”
“B-bu daddeh nu am thief!” protested Figwit, in full faith.

“Oh no, dear fluffy. I lent the precious to your father. But he forgot to return it to me. I need you, to return my precious to me.”
“Fwuffy wiww twy,” said Figwit, still looking at the empty box.

“Because, if you return the precious to me, I’ll be able to give you some more Easterling Delight. I can’t do it now, the magic will only work once. In my own house it would be another matter.”

“Bu’ why can’t fwuffy go to nice ewf mistahs house nao?”

“Because this is a dream, fluffy. And for a brief moment you realized it, before you forgot. But I can bring you to that house if you return the precious to me. And it will be more than a dream.”

“Figwit! Wake up! Breakfast time!”

the veil of the imaginary was pierced by Bilbo’s reassuring voice
but, in that moment, Figwit did not want to wake up

Figwit never had the nightmare of the monstrous eye again
instead, the only dreams he had, aside from the dream of Frodo, was the dream of meeting the nice elf mister again, and his Easterling delight

and as his mind dwelled on the elf-lords offer, he became increasingly interested in Bilbo’s cabinet.


Every year, the Hobbits of the Shire hold the Festival of October
being lovers of good food and ale, the festival is a yearly celebration of the best that breweries of the Shire have to offer
for a week, the hobbits enjoy a good spread of the rich food of the Shire accompanied, of course, by a wide variety of ales, lagers, ciders, stouts and, for the refined, wines.
It is a festival that Bilbo always looks forward to attending, as he is no stranger to revelry
however, as with all other crowded events, Bilbo prefers to leave Figwit out of it
while he had trained the fluffy to be able to be quiet during most excursions, he fears that a large crowded event may prevent enough opportunity for the animal to reveal its ability to speak the Common Speech
in addition, Bilbo begrudgingly has to look forward to another run-in with the Sackville-Bagginses, something that he prefers his dear Figwit not to see
although Figwit gets lonely during nights like this, Bilbo makes it up to the fluffy by bringing him a good feast - after all, spaghetti has started appearing at the menus of these festivals

“Now Figwit, you be a good boy.”
“Otay daddeh!”

Figwit seemed uncharacteristically happy today
Bilbo, however, paid no attention. Smiling, he left his hobbit-hole, and marched on to the town square, where the festival was being held

about half an hour after Bilbo left, Figwit makes his way to the living room
eyeing the cabinet, Figwit makes a silent approach towards it
well, as silent as a fluffy waddle can be. Having known how his enthusiastic clumsiness has massed up the living room many times before, much to Bilbo’s annoyance, Figwit tries his best to curtail his enthusiasm
deep down, he want to abandon his inhibitions, as he is wont to do, and just run all over the place
but the taste of the Easterling Delight, and the thought of seeing the house of an Elf-King, steeled his resolve

Figwit was now before the cabinet
he remember that Bilbo kept the precious in the second drawer
standing on his two hind legs, Figwit uses his mouth to grasp the handle of the drawer
with some difficulty, due to the weight of the drawer, as well as a want to remain as discreet as possible, Figwit tugs at the drawer, bit by bit

eventually, Figwit sees the contents of the drawer
documents, coin, string

and the Precious


As Figwit observes the ring that Bilbo owned, something unusual happens

“Wah! Pweshus go bigger!”

the ring, which was small enough to fit the finger of a hobbit, had now grown
by Figiwt’s estimation, he could imagine the ring fitting his hoof

“Put it on…”

that thought, however, did not fully come by Figwit’s mind
using his mouth, again, Figwit picks up the Ring
suddenly, and due to a loss of balance, Figwit falls to the ground, with the drawer

a flurry of documents is now strewn about the floor, along with one bruised fluffy

“Owwies… daddeh am gonna get angwy…”

“Put it on.”

Figwit turned, wonder where the voice came from
he then sees the Ring

Unperturbed. Resplendent. Perfect

like a bangle, neatly surrounded by the strewn documents

“How fwuffy weaw pweshus?”

As Figwit pondered his hoof down onto the ring
now a bangle, it fits neatly into Figwit’s hoof

…and the fluffy vanishes into thin air


It is close to midnight
Blibo Baggins is currently staggering towards his hobbithole

having downed copious pints of ales and ciders, the hobbit is far from tipsy, yet not fully inebriated
in addition, his belly has been with the rich food of the Shire, to such an extent that he needed the help of a carriage to bring him home
while a fairly joyous evening, the event was still soured by the presence of the Sacksville-Bagginses, who still demanded the return of Bag-End to them
and during the festival, while seated far away from them, Bilbo caught a glimpse of Drogo and Primula wandering about the town square, with their son, the young Frodo
all three holding hands
with Drogo sometimes carrying Frodo, and letting him ride on his shoulders
that sight haunted Bilbo more then the greed of the Sacksville-Bagginses, and, despite the amount of ale and cider he took, he could not put the image out of his mind

It is pitch black in the hobbit hole
Bilbo is fumbling around for a candle to illuminate surroundings, when he hears a rustling, a pitter-patter of steps

“Whose there?”

he manages to reach a candle and a tinderbox. With the bit of flint in the tinderbox, he lights the candles, bringing illumination to the abode

he is greeted by the mess of documents of a spilled drawer on the floor
with a visible frown on his face, Bilbo was fully aware of what caused it

“FIGWIT! What have you done! You are going to get a good spanking!”

In a huff, Bilbo marches towards the room where Figwit is staying
only to find that, in the little cot that he had made for the fluffy, Figwit was not there?


Bilbo is a little concerned. For a moment, he entertains the possibility that he had been burgled, explaining the mess on the floor

“But that would mean…”

As cold sweat started to cover his palms and hands, Bilbo rushes back to his living room, where the mess had unfolded
only to find to his horror that, indeed, the drawer that had been ransacked was the one with the Ring in it

frantically, Bilbo starts rummaging through the papers, ignoring the string and gold, as he searches for the most important thing to him

“The precious!!! They stole my precious!”

As he says this, he feels a budge from beside him

"Teehee! Fwuffy am ghostie!


In that brief moment, Bilbo lost control himself
having used the trinket before, and the situation made clear to him, he cared little about who was wearing the ring right now
only that, at that very moment, he wanted his Precious back

Bilbo leaped at Figwit
even though Figwit was invisible at the moemnt, thanks to the Power of the Ring, the sounds of his hooves was audible, and being a fluffy, he was capable of only a slow waddle
like wrestling an invisible hog, Bilbo grabbed his hands around the creature, feeling the fluff, and the clear belly

“Owwies daddeh!”

Figwit was starting to violently shake, in a desperate attempt to wriggle himself away from his master
with some concentrated effort, he was able to free himself

“Waaaah! Nu huwt Figwit!!”

As Figwit starts to run, Bilbo frantically thinks of a way to make his pet visible
a thought then comes to his mind


Figwit was now outside of the hobbit hole
he could feel the Ring calling to him, guiding him

“Leave Bag-End. Leave the Shire. Head to Bywater”

suddenly, a blast of cold liquid covers him
he promptly shrieks, and gurgles, feeling like he is about to drown



Bilbo drops the bucket, and sees that the water had not only slowed Figwit down, but made him clearly visible
he leaps onto the fluffy, and wrestles with him again, this time with the upper hand

As Figwit continues to violently shake, he starts to make a mess, perhaps out of fear of drowning
despite the horrid smell of the mess, Bilbo didn’t care
now that he could clearly see the right hoof, he places his hand upon it


Figwit keeps resisting
Bilbo, in a blind fury, punches Figwit in the stomach


As Figwit reels in pain, Bilbo manages to wrest the Ring off of Figwit
in an instance, Figwit becomes visible again
in addition, the ring, which had become a bangle, had now returned to the size of a ring fit for a Hobbit

“You have been a bad fluffy! You’re going to get a spanking!!”

Figwit winces in pain and can only manage a pathetic sob


Bilbo marches home, the ring in his pocket, and carry Figwit, now feeling in pain


for the next few days, Figwit was kept in isolation
placed in a sort of wooden cage, Bilbo refused to talk to Figwit
he would sometimes fit a bowl of feed through the cage but, he refused to talk to him

“Daddeh… fwuffy am sowwy… nu mean tu take pweshus…huu…huu…”

each time he pleaded to Bilbo, the hobbit kept a stern face and remained silent


on the second night of isolation, Figwit had another dream
this time, he saw the elf-Lord Annatar again
and he was a little angry

“You bungling fool! You had the Precious in your grasp, but you let your master get hold of you!”

“Fwuffy am sowwy, nice ewf mistah. Daddeh too smawt. Fwuffy nu can weave daddeh.”
“I care not for your excuses!”

Suddenly, the elf starts to change
in a manner that can only be understood in dreams, Figwit sees that what was once Annatar was starting to shrink, his mail disappearing, turning into fur
his hands turning into hooves

until Figwit was face to face, with the gollum fluffy of his imagination

“Daddeh am meanie! Nu gib pweshus! Fwuffy no wuv daddeh nu moar!”
“But fwuffy wuv daddeh. Daddeh am good hobbit! Daddeh gib wuv and huggies an’ nummies an’”
“Daddeh nu wub Figwit. Daddeh onwy wub pweshus. Daddeh wan pweshus. Ewf mistah wan pweshus.”

“But why pweshus so speshul?”
“Pweshus can gib huwties. Pweshus hab big power. Becum toughie fwuffy wit’ it!”
“Bu-bu nice ewf mistah wan pweshus…”

“Nu cawe! Wets take da pweshus! Den fwuffy shaww be masta’! Make nasty daddeh cwawl, and gib ‘im sowwy huwties!”
“Bu’ fwuffy wuv daddeh! Nu wan huwt daddeh!”
"Aww peepwe wan pweshus. Ewf mista. Daddeh. Gandawf. Fwodo. Aww wan pweshus.

See, if we haz pweshus, then fwuffy can escape. Escape from Daddeh. escape from Ewf mistah. Then fwuffy can be Word Figwit! Figwit the Gweat? DA BIG FWUFFY. Eat sketties ewewy day, thwee timesies!"

“Bu- bu’ how”
"We be nice fwuffy, yes, we be nice to daddeh.

Then we gib him da sowwy poopies."


Feeling rather forlorn, Bilbo inhales the intoxicating smoke of tobacco from his pipe
he had sent a message for Gandalf a few days ago. Though it took a while, the barman at the Bywater sent word then, indeed, the wizard had received his message, and was on his way to meet the hobbit

as Bilbo hears the sound of knuckles bracing the door, as he quietly assures the visitor

“Coming, Gandalf.”


“How long has he been like this?”
"It started about a week ago.

Somehow, Figwit managed to get a hold of the ring I found in the cave of Gollum and went invisible. I managed to catch the fluffy, and then I placed him within the cage as punishment. I ahd done this to him before for bad behaviour.

After a few days, he behaved himself, and I let him out. And then, that is when things started to change."
“What do you mean, change?”

Bilbo guides Gandalf out to the room that Figwit once stayed in
Gandalf bears witness to a room that is completely in a mess
furniture, toys, belongings, all turned over, all trampled upon
in one corner, there are stuffed toys, some of which Bilbo had gotten for Figwit over the years

all defecated upon, covered in a mess

“And where is Figwit?”

Bilbo remains silent. And somewhat sad
He guides the wizard out to the garden

Figwit is now kept on a leash. He keeps tugging at it and screaming

“Wet gu! Stuppeh dummeh wope tingy!”

The fluffy then sees the wizard before him, along with his owner.

Figwit then stops jerking at the leash.
He puffs up his cheeks, and stomps his hoof on the ground

“Wet smawty go, dummeh! Wet Smawty go, ow get sowwy huwties!”


Gandalf and Bilbo are now seated inside the hobbit hole, smoking pipe-weed
Figwit can still be heard making noise outside

“I’ve never seen anything like this, Bilbo. I have had experience with water-horses, but they never got this wild.”
“What do you mean.”

Gandalf sighs

"When I first passed the fluffy to you, I expected him to be a full grown pony speaking the Common Speech at least within a year since his birth. But he has remained in a form similar to a foal. Or rather, its more advanced than a foal, but less than a fully grown colt. It is in some process in-between.

And, for him to display this behaviour makes me a little worried of him."

“The head of my order spoke of a time when the Numenoreans owned fluffies like Figwit here. However, during the decline of Numenor, they started assuming a form similar to the orc. They started to puff their cheeks and make a mess wherever they went. Eventually, they became a source of nourishment for the orcs, and their numbers were decimated.”

“That sounds terrible. Is there really no hope for Figwit?”

Gandalf inhales from the pipe, and gives out a long, deep sigh

“I’ll be taking Figwit with me. I will bring him to a member of my order who is more familiar with animals, especially of his kind. I cannot promise that Figwit will get better, but I do think there has to be a solution to his current state.”


Bilbo once again found himself alone, at Bag End

then, about a month after Figwit’s departure, a bigger tragedy had hit him

“Bilbo! BILBO!!”

It was his gardener, Gamgee, who broke the news to him about Drogo and Primula

one day, the couple had gone out boating after dinner, while Frodo was playing with the other hobbit children
rather unfortunately, the boat capsized, and the coupled drownded
some speculate Drogo was too heavy after eating one too many minced pies
others say the Brandywine river was too wild, and the couple should not have gone boating

regardless, Frodo was going to living in the Halls of Brandybuck with his cousin Pippin
which, unfortunately, were often seen as very rowdy
Bilbo, in an unusual act of kindness, adopted the young Frodo at the age of ten
not only as a service to his cousin, Drogo, but also to Primula, who he had once pined for

Bilbo emptied out the room that Figwit lived in, and made it bare. It included the unpleasant task of throwing away the spoiled toys and broken furniture, but, it had to be done
and within a week, Frodo was able to settle himself into the house at Bag End, rather comfortably

but there was something on Frodo’s mind

“Uncle Bilbo?”
“Yes, Frodo?”

“You once had a pet pony. A talking one. What happened to him?”

Bilbo sighs. He hesitates, before giving an answer

“He’s been rather unwell lately. I had Gandalf take him to see a healer.”
“I’m sorry to hear.”
“Its okay, young Frodo. Figwit was a good fluffy.”

And that was the last Bilbo and Frodo spoke of Figwit in the Shire

But Figwit’s story does not end here



I originally did not plan this story to be a three parter but, after I finished writing out the story in full, the wordcount came out to almost 15k! Considering that Part 1’s wordcount was at 5k, I felt it had to be done

I will be uploading Part 3 soon, a little later in the day. Also, people who want the greentext version of this story can read it on the Reddit or on my Pastebin