Author notes:
This chapter is rather short, but there is more to come soon...

~~~~~~

Chapter two: Alone in the Darkness

The bucket was floating calmly in the shallow water of the well. The small hobbit-lad was crouching in the wooden vessel, his head resting on its edge. Blood was dripping from a lesion on his left forehead. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow.

It was only when the bucket knocked against the stones that Frodo startled awake and opened his eyes. Scared he backed away from the cold stone wall, almost toppling over and falling into the water. Frightened he clung to the bucket, looking about fearfully. A slight dizziness overcame him and he leaned heavily against the bucket side, almost tipping over anew. Liquid dripped into his eyes and Frodo swiftly wiped it away with the back of his hand. Seeing that his fingers were full of blood Frodo gave a cry and flinched back. This time he couldn't get hold of the bucket in time and fell into the water.

Fortunately he had learned to swim long ago. Struggling to the surface Frodo gripped for the bucket. The water was cold and dirty, but not very deep for his toes had touched ground when he had fallen in. The water felt oily to his skin and it was dark; dark and ghastly.

Crouching in the bucket again he looked around. The sun was shining into the round opening of the well, but her light didn't reach him. Closing his eyes he drew his knees close and flung his arms around them, when at last he remembered. The rope was torn apart and he had fallen, long and deep. And then darkness took him.

All of a sudden he started to pant. An icy shiver ran down his spine. He was captured. Panic seized him with an icy claw and he cried out desperately. He cried for his mother, for his father, for anybody to help him, as loud as his fearful voice allowed him. His screams echoed from the cold stonewall of the well ere they reached the world above and were carried away by the sighing October wind. Tears of despair were stinging in his eyes searching their way down his cheeks and still he called. His own voice was ringing in his ears, but there was no other that answered. After what seemed like endless hours his voice died down to a mere cawing, always interrupted by quiet sobs and silent tears that didn't cease to flow.

The light above him faded and Frodo reckoned that it must be evening. He wondered if his parents already missed him and if the S.B.s were gone by now. How long would it take for his parents to realise that he wasn't at home? And how long would it take them to find him? Would anybody find him here? Shivering all over he pulled his legs closer laying his head on his knees weeping silently.

The water beneath him gurgled quietly while the bucket in which he sat drifted from one edge to the other knocking against the cold stone wall and changing direction again. Frodo had closed his eyes hoping to escape his misery by doing so, when suddenly he heard voices far above him. The glimmer of hope glistened in his eyes when he looked up. There was even a smile playing on the corner of his lips as the voices came closer. But there was another noise that disturbed him although he couldn't make out what it was.

With a quick jump Frodo got to his feet fighting for balance. His throat was sore and he wasn't sure if his voice was still loud enough for the hobbits above to hear him, but still he would cry out. This was his only chance to get out of the well again.

He took a deep breath but his voice failed him. All of a sudden he felt cold, colder even than before. A shiver ran down his spine and the icy claw of fear clutched him even tighter than it had done earlier. He swayed feeling suddenly dizzy. His eyes grew wide when he felt a cool breath of wind stroking his neck. The world began to turn and he fell to his knees, almost toppling into the water again. It was as if cold, invisible fingers were caressing his cheek and finally came to rest upon his mouth. He was unable to breathe, let alone to shout.

His body was trembling violently as he desperately gasped for breath. Above him there was a scraping noise. The hobbits laughed as they were heaving something heavy, Frodo could tell that from the way they were breathing. While he found himself still unable to move, fighting desperately for breath, hot tears filled his eyes. Frodo jerked at the sound of stone scraping against stone. The world about him grew darker.

Sudden fear pierced his mind. They were closing the well with a flagstone. They always did so in autumn not to open it again before spring. The scraping almost drove him mad and still he couldn't find the air to cry out. Black spots were dancing in front of his eyes and the world grew darker.

A faint laugh from above and then… silent darkness. Frodo forced himself to stand up, but found that he still was unable to move. All of a sudden the cold fingers released him. Desperately Frodo gasped in some breath, shouting for help before toppling backwards and falling into the water with a splash. His desperate shout echoed from the cold stonewall but little of his voice broke through the flagstone.

~~~~~~

"That was the last one for t'day," Posco Brownlock said stretching his back.

Farmer Cotton laughed. "More to come t'morrow!"

Posco jumped on the seat of the cart with which they came but Tom Cotton stood silent for a moment. Had he heard someone crying? Puzzled he looked around but seeing the questioning look in his friend's eyes he shook his head and joined him on the cart.

~~~~~~

Coughing and spluttering Frodo reached the surface again. The oily liquid dripped from his curls and had soaked his clothes. He shuddered. Somehow he felt a disgusting dislike for the water in this well. He had some difficulties in climbing back into the bucket, but after some time he managed it. Fresh tears burned in his eyes as he looked up. The well was shut. Only a little light now broke through to his prison. He was caught and no one would find him here, not until spring anyway.

"Hello?!" he shouted with a raspy voice but there was no answer.

His eyes searched the thin glimmer of light for any movement, but there was none. Hiccupping sobs escaped his throat. Why did he climb into the well? Why couldn't he just ignore Lotho's comments? No one would ever find him here.

A light breath of wind caressed his face making him shiver. There was a whisper and a silent laugh close to his ear.

Terrified Frodo jumped up, swaying but catching his balance swiftly. His eyes were wide with fear. He was not alone.