Title: Dark Wells
Genre: Horror/Angst
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A lot of angst and ghastly things to happen.
Summary: 'She didn't like to be alone and was delighted when the young boy came to Her.' Young Frodo doesn't return after taking a walk with Lotho Sackville-Baggins. A desperate search begins... but will his parents ever find him? - slightly A/U

Author notes:
This is what happens when my friend and I watch a horror movie ('The Ring') and have nothing better to do than to have long talks about Frodo and hobbits in general to distract ourselves afterwards.

Frodo has just turned ten at the beginning of this story. He lives with his parents in a hobbithole outside Bywater.

~~~~~~

Chapter one: Unpleasant Visitors

Frodo yawned sleepily and snuggled into his blankets. Primula tucked the coverlet safely about him and, kissing him goodnight, she left the room.

"Mama?" Frodo's tired voice stopped her from closing the door.

She turned looking at him questioningly. Smiling he patted the mattress of his bed. The candle in her hands flickered as she sat down beside him putting the candlestick holder down on the bedside table. The coverlet rustled as he shifted slightly and placed his head on her lap.

"Do you think the Sackville-Bagginses will be as stupid as they were when they last visited?" the boy wanted to know, his voice low, his eyes still closed.

Primula knitted her brow and, brushing her fingers through his dark curls, she answered: "Frodo, they are your relatives. You shouldn't deem them stupid."

He blinked, murmuring: "But you think the same."

"Who told you that?"

Failing to hide his smile he told her that he had heard her telling his father that his relatives were rather stupid and that she didn't appreciate their visit. He pondered for a moment before adding: "Aren't dad's relatives yours as well?"

"You little rascal!" she teased ruffling his curls and making him giggle. "They are mine as well, in some sort of way, but only because I married your father and that doesn't mean that I like them as much as I probably should," she paused. "Still you should try to get along with them, especially Lotho. He can't be that bad, can he?"

Frodo scowled. "But he is! He's a small-minded, fat and stupid…"

"Frodo!" she interrupted, looking at him invectively.

Grumbling he laid back into his pillow, declaring that he wouldn't play with Lotho and would not allow him to use any of his toys.

Primula shook her head. She couldn't be too angry with her son, for she too held little love for the Sackville-Bagginses. But they were the relatives of her husband and therefore she had to endure tea with them. At least they didn't stay longer than one afternoon.

"Good night," she whispered, took up the candlestick holder once more and left the room quietly. She didn't shut the door for she knew that her son tended to fear darkness, when he was alone.

Silently she stepped into the living room of the small hobbithole outside Bywater. Her husband was kneeling in front of the hearth getting a fire going. He picked into the glowing fire with the tongs and there was a silent crackle, when the flames finally got hold of the log Drogo had thrown in. His face glowed red and his eyes glimmered in the blazing light of the fire. He smiled at her as he got to his feet, picked up his pipe and let himself sink into his modest chair. She blew out the candle and sat down on a rocking chair beside him.

"He doesn't look forward to seeing the S.B.s," she said casually.

Drogo filled his pipe saying that neither of them was looking forward to seeing them.

"Lobelia is a pest," he declared, "as is Lotho. As for Otho, well, he seems the only one with at least a little wit in his family."

Primula said nothing hoping silently the next day would pass swiftly.

~~~~~~

It was a cool and fresh October-morning. The weather was promising and it looked as if it would be a sunny and warm day as soon as the matutinal fog had passed. Frodo was huffing all morning, searching feverishly for excuses to allow him to spend the afternoon elsewhere but at home. He cooked up stories of Folco Boffin inviting him to come which Frodo had forgotten to tell. But Primula wouldn't let him go.

It was noon when Frodo sat in front of his father at the kitchen table; his arms cross, scowling angrily. "Why do they have to come? I don't want them to be here and Lotho and his parents don't like me either."

"Frodo," Drogo sighed. "It's been a year since they last visited, maybe you can give Lotho a chance? Maybe he likes you now?"

"And if he does, I won't," snorted his son. "Last time he visited he put glue on my hair telling that it was by accident but I didn't believe him, I still don't. Who knows what he's up to this year?"

"He's up to nothing! The thing with the glue was pure misfortune."

"How can anyone spill a pot of glue by accident?" asked Frodo in a stubborn tone, unwilling to give in.

Drogo was about to lose his patience. "Have you never spilled anything?"

"I have," declared Frodo. "But never a pot of glue and never on the hair of another hobbit."

"That's enough!" Drogo finally said, glaring slightly angry at his son. "You will accompany Lotho this afternoon and you won't quarrel and that's it!"

Drogo sighed heavily as Frodo stepped away grumbling. He felt a headache approach. Last year Otho and Lobelia came for a visit two days after Frodo's ninth birthday. During the afternoon Frodo and Lotho had disappeared in Drogo's study and when they had returned Frodo was crying and blustering, telling that Lotho had spilled all the glue in his hair. How it came to pass neither of them could tell him. Anyhow, most of Frodo's curls fell victim to a pair of scissors which, of course, didn't appeal to him.

~~~~~~

Frodo sat in the branches of an oak tree which stood close to his home. The wind whistled in the coloured leaves and made his hair swirl. From afar he could see the pony-trap advancing, but still he was unwilling to come down of his tree and spend the afternoon with young Lotho Sackville-Baggins.

"Down you come, young fellow!" it was his mothers voice that awakened him from his thoughts.

He looked down where she stood, her hands at her hips, looking expectantly at him. He sighed, climbing down the tree querulously. As soon as his feet touched ground again, his mother gripped him by the hand.

"I know you don't like Lotho, but it's only this one afternoon. Please behave yourself so your father and I can be proud of you."

Frodo grimaced as they advanced the entrance door. His stubbornness melted slowly but finally he took a deep breath and nodded. He could afford being nice to a person he disliked for one afternoon, if his parents wished it.

The pony-trap stopped and Frodo heard his father sighing. A smile crept over his face. He was not the only one who disliked the Sackville-Bagginses. Maybe disliking those kinds of relatives was something like a family-disease, for his mother didn't look any happier than his father.

"Drogo, my dear!" Lobelia cried out as he helped her down the trap and hugged him tightly.

"Hello Lobelia, it's good to see you!" he lied without letting on anything.

Her eyes fell upon Frodo, who stood, rather unsure of what he was to do, at his mother's side.

"How tall you've grown!" she said enthusiastically, advancing towards him with quick paces.

Frodo was tempted to step back, but forced himself to stand still. She kneeled down in front of him, cupping his chin and twitching his cheek. "How very cute he is, almost as sweet as my Lotho!"

Primula tried to ignore her last words as she welcomed her. As soon as he was released from Lobelia's grip, Frodo rubbed his cheek which had turned slightly red because of this treatment. That was one of the many reasons why he didn't like the Sackville-Bagginses. Unlike his mother, he hadn't ignored the last words of Lobelia. He shot her a glance but smiled as soon as he realised that his father was watching him.

It took them a few minutes before they finally entered the comfortable hobbithole where they would have tea together. Primula served them an apple pie she had baked the day before. Frodo talked little while eating. Instead he listened to the conversation of the adults, which he soon thought uninteresting.

Having the S.B.s for tea was alright, as long as he got apple pie and didn't have to spend his time with Lotho, who didn't appear to have changed a lot since he last met him. Frodo didn't feel very comfortable when he was near him. He couldn't tell exactly what it was, but something in his appearance troubled him. He shifted uneasily in his chair when Lotho spoke always hoping that no one would force him to play with the older hobbit-lad.

Suppressing a yawn, Frodo looked dreamily into the dazzling flames of the fire in the hearth. After he had eaten his cake he had ignored everything that was happening beside him and started daydreaming. Startled he turned around when someone gripped his shoulder. Lotho was looking at him expectantly. Frodo raised an eyebrow unsure of what the hobbit wanted of him.

"Why don't you two go outside and leave us alone for a while?" said Primula.

Frodo looked at his mother pleadingly, failing in suppressing a sigh. She nodded slightly, her eyes begging him to do as she said. It took a few seconds until the young hobbit finally got to his feet. As he passed his mother's side his eyes spoke volumes. She smiled at him, winking.

~~~~~~

Lotho hadn't been in Bywater for a long while now and thus the two of them decided to go for a walk. Frodo spoke little for Lotho declared that he didn't like childish conversation and he made it quite clear to Frodo that he deemed him a child and nothing more. Frodo gritted his teeth, clenched his fists and tried his best to take no notice of the insulting comments of his cousin.

The road they took was less travelled for the Baggins-family lived in a remote part outside Bywater. A fresh October wind was blowing and yellowish leaves were rustling over the earthy and cold ground. Some fluffy clouds were casting fleeting shadows on their path. The first sign that the two boys were reaching Bywater was a stone well which stood in a meadow on the right side of the road. Lotho ran towards it and looked into the dark abyss with excitement. Sighing heavily Frodo followed him. He had to stand on his tiptoes to look into the darkness it revealed. The well was very deep for Frodo could not see the water it usually held. Lotho picked up a pebble and throw it into the well. Silence. Frodo found that he had stopped breathing and listened intensely. A silent splash revealed that the well still held water, if only a little. A shudder ran through the young hobbit and he quickly took some paces backwards.

"Are you scared?" asked Lotho spitefully. He was quite amazed by the depth of the well and had to test it with another stone.

Frodo shook his head and stepped closer again, but avoided standing on his tiptoes, keeping still a little distance between himself and the solid stones of the well. While Lotho listened for another splashing sound, Frodo looked at the bucket which hung on a strong rope. The rope which at least had been strong once was wound around a wooden crossbar. Now it looked rather used and at some points it was frayed.

"I wager you don't dare to let yourself slide down there," Lotho said all of a sudden.

Frodo looked at him stunned. "Would you?" he wanted to know.

Lotho didn't answer at once but then he said: "I don't need to show that I'm no child anymore. But you, you could prove me wrong and demonstrate that you're as much a grown-up as I am."

Frodo swallowed, looking at the older hobbit suspiciously. He pondered a while, always glancing to the stone well, but then he shook his head for he was too scared of the darkness that lingered down there. Not waiting for a reaction of Lotho, Frodo stepped back on the road and headed for Bywater. Lotho was at his side within seconds smiling nastily.

"You're stupid, you know that?" Frodo snorted getting angry because of Lotho's behaviour.

Lotho didn't answer but smiled even wider. "At least I'm no coward."

The wind grew heavier and whistled quietly, when Frodo suddenly stopped short and glared at Lotho furiously. He was not going to put up with that. It was one thing to do his mother a favour and 'behave himself' as she put it, but it was another to get picked on by Lotho. "At least I have more wits than all your family," he blustered, turned around and dashed along the road.

For a moment Lotho was tempted to follow him and trounce the young lad but then he made up his mind. He was rid of that child dangling at his side and he was sure that Frodo would find his way back home on his own, so no one could accuse him of not looking after him. Anyway, he was not his childminder.

~~~~~~

As soon as he was sure Lotho wouldn't follow him, Frodo stopped gasping for breath. Lotho was a fool, if he thought he could be so rude to him. Frodo may have silently promised his mother to endure the unpleasant visitors but that was too much for him. Lotho didn't want him at his side and Frodo did neither. They did better in going separate ways. Frodo looked back but couldn't see the older hobbit anymore.

Sighing heavily he got moving again when his eyes suddenly fell upon the well they had passed before. Pensively Frodo stepped closer looking cautiously over its edge into the darkness beyond. Again he shuddered. A thought crept into his mind, as he looked into the black abyss of the well. He was about to turn and step away when it finally took shape.

Lotho would stop taunting him if he slid down the well. No one would ever call him a coward again. Frodo looked at the bucket and the rope ruminatively and before recognising what he was doing he already climbed on the edge of the stone well and gripped for the bucket. He swayed slightly and clung desperately to the rope though that didn't keep him grounded very well. His heart was beating fast as he looked down to the meadow where the wind was playing with some leaves. He swallowed again before carefully stepping into the wooden bucket with his right foot. It swayed dangerously and Frodo's hands trembled as he stepped inside with his other foot as well. Now he had to carry all of his weight and he already felt the rope sliding slowly within his fingers. His heart pounded as if it was about to burst and small beads of sweat covered his forehead, as he slowly let himself drift deeper into the well. The bucket was rocking back and forth and ever and anon there was a creaking noise that almost scared Frodo to death. His fingers were trembling violently by now but he clung to the rope with a firm grip anyhow.

He was already far below, but still he couldn't see the water beneath. Swallowing hard he looked up again. He couldn't hold it any longer; he had to get back out of here no, matter what Lotho or anybody else would say. With all his strength he pulled at the rope with quivering hands looking expectantly at the round opening above him. The bucket moved but slowly and there was a quiet crackling that made Frodo uneasy. The young hobbit was angry with himself for going inside and all he wished was to get out of the well again. Another strong pull and the bucket slowly moved upwards. If he could only be outside already.

A crackle; Frodo looked up startled. His eyes grew wide. Not far above him the rope showed a strong sign of usage. There it was almost broken and only because of some threads it still held together. A quite sob escaped his lips as he pulled again, more careful this time. Not only were his hands trembling now but all his body. His hands got weary of their task and Frodo felt that he couldn't carry his weight much longer. The bucket creaked. Frodo's breathing got shallower. Another pull, a crackle; Frodo looked up. One of the threads had given way to the weight it carried. Shivering all over Frodo was almost fearful to pull at the rope again. His heart was pounding fast as he prepared to grip it further above.

There was another crackle and a resounding snap as one end of the rope lashed against the stonewall of the well.

A scream, a splash and then… silence.