"FLISA!" Pippin tried to run to her, but the Gaffer held him back.
"Pippin, calm down. You need to stay here and warm up. Bilbo and I will go help the dog." The Gaffer looked at Bilbo, who nodded.
"Her name's Flisa," Pippin muttered as he allowed Frodo and Merry to lead him out of the doorway.
It turned out that Bilbo and the Gaffer couldn't lift Flisa, so Frodo and Sam had to rush out and help them carry her in. They set her down on a blanket spread out before the fireplace. Pippin curled up behind her, running his fingers through her fur and resting his head on her neck.
Bilbo looked at her for a while. "Why…" he murmured. "I believe I've heard of this creature before!" He ran off to find something.
"Her name's Flisa," Pippin lifted his head to add this remark, as if it hurt when people referred to her as 'it' or 'the dog'. He buried his face into her neck again.
Frodo, Merry, Sam, and the Gaffer watched in silence, waiting for Bilbo's return. Pippin remained next to Flisa, muttering things into her fur that the others couldn't hear, but it was obvious that he was crying.
"Here it is!" Bilbo hurried back into the room with a old, beaten looking book. "During my travels, I learned about a creature who reminds me a lot of this dog. There's a song in hear that reads:
Where she came, no one knew
With White, and Grey
And Brown and Blue
To Middle Earth
All were led
With her, Flisadora
Flisa the Red
She took other forms
Her magic was fire
She was carefree and kind
Singing songs with a lyre
But dare to confront her
And you would regret it
For she's never been beaten
Not once.
One day as she traveled
Throughout the North Lands
Slave traders they came, and took her they did
She escaped, but is often forgetten in stories
In all her greatness and strength
But she is known as the shaggy black hound
That wanders the woods of lands by night
Appearing quite frightful she offers her help
To any and all wounded souls in her sight
With eyes of flame, a heart of gold
A singer, a dancer
A hero of old."
Bilbo looked up at their faces. They all looked confused.
"She's a wizard."
Then they understood. All of them wide-eyed, they looked at Bilbo in awe.
Pippin looked up. "Do you know what a… a thransmo spell is?"
Bilbo nodded. "Yes, Gandalf spoke of it to me once. It allows the warmth and life of the wizard to go into another being." Pippin's eyes widened, and he looked down at Flisa.
He did not know what to say. That is why she became so weak. It was not because she was tired, but her life was draining out of her. He had been slowly killing her. And he might have succeeded.
----x--X--x----
It seemed all was lost. Flisa, lifeless and cold, had not moved. Pippin refused to leave her side, but the other hobbits were convinced she was dead.
Then, quite a while after she had been dragged into Bag End, Flisa coughed.
Pippin's head whipped up. "Flisa!" he shrieked, and wrapped his arms around her neck. "I thought you were gone!"
Flisa smiled. "Well of course I ain't gone, love. I'm movin', aren't I?"
Pippin just laughed and held her tighter. Frodo, Merry, and Sam looked down at her. She lifted her head.
"Ah. Frodo, Meriadoc, and Samwise. I do hope you all manage to keeps ya selves outta trouble from now on?"
The three hobbits looked startled. "How do you know our names?" Merry asked.
"Because, me dearie, I knows a lots a things," Flisa told him. Pippin let go of her, and she rose to her feet, her legs trembling.
"Well, I oughts tae get a goin', I s'poses," she said. "Thank you so much fer the warmth." Flisa turned to leave.
"But, you can't just leave!" Pippin yelled. Flisa turned.
"Well, I can't stay here, love."
Bilbo stepped forward. "Who ever said you can't?" he asked. "I, for one, would love to hear all the tales you have to tell. Although, I suppose, there's not a way I'd live long enough to hear 'em all."
Flisa's eyes widened. "You mean…I can stay?"
Bilbo grinned. "Yes," he replied.
Flisa sat down on the blankets once more. "Then gather 'round, hobbitses, and tell me: what kind of a tale would ya like tae hear?"