Previously….

Connyn knelt next to the pony, and lifted Kili's head up slightly by his hair and looked him in the eyes. "Looks like you're off the hook this time, pretty-Kili," he patted his cheek. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of your big brother."

Kili surged forward as best he could, with a growl, ever the fighter, especially where his brother—his best friend—was concerned. "You're simply adorable," Connyn kissed his forehead. "Too cute for words." Then, he suddenly punched Kili across the face and the dwarf ceased fighting.

Connyn tucked the parchment and Fili's braid into the spot where the rope criss-crossed at the small of Kili's back. He loosened Jasper's tether and smacked the pony hard on its rump, sending it off with a frightened whinny. Jasper galloped off into the night with Kili his involuntary passenger.

"There's no turning back now," Connyn told his partners in crime. "Let's find a safe place to stow our hostage."

Now….

Bofur, back against a tree and pipe smoke circling his head, heard the pony's approach from some distance away. At first, he thought it was a late-night traveler on the Great East Road. But the hoof falls of a burdened, laboring pony kept coming closer and closer, until he knew for certain the rider had entered their camp. He shot to his feet, not quite ready to wake the others, although a few of the more seasoned warriors were already stirring in their sleep.

Bofur tamped out his pipe and hefted his mattock in both hands as he approached the incoming animal. As pony and rider entered the fire lit circle, Bofur let out a gasp. The rider wasn't sitting upright, but was lying crosswise across the pony's saddle. In fact, he'd been tied there!

"Whoa, boy! Whoa!" Bofur tried to calm the obviously agitated pony. Fili's pony, he realized. Jasper—the name came to him. But it wasn't Fili who was his passenger.

"Thorin!" Bofur raised the cry of alarm. "Everyone! On your feet!" He petted Jasper's muzzle soothingly, trying to calm the distraught animal.

"It's one of the youngsters!" Dwalin exclaimed, drawing a dagger from his belt and approaching the pony. Thorin joined him, and in moments the pair had cut Kili loose from poor Jasper.

"Wait!" Thorin pulled the parchment from Kili's back. "Now, move him very carefully to my bedroll," he cautioned. "It appears as if someone left us a message."

Dwalin and Bofur hefted Kili gingerly and moved him to Thorin's blanket, close to the fire. Oin led the frightened pony away to water him and examine him for injuries.

"There's something on his legs," Bilbo offered, indicating the bolas, still tightly encasing Kili's limbs just above the knees.

Thorin ran a hand down his nephew's flank and found the offending bolas, cutting indentations into the flesh all around. "Some sort of hunter's weapon." he drew his dagger through it and it fell to the ground.

"Who could have done this to him?" Ori worked fervently to remove the gag from Kili's mouth.

"Men," Gandalf told them. "The bolas is primarily used by the men of the plains for hunting." The wizard knelt by the bedroll where Kili lay, still deeply unconscious. Kili's face was pale by the light of the fire. "He's obviously been struck several times on the face," Gandalf indicated the swelling and bruising around Kili's cheekbone and jaw. "There's some bruising on his neck as well," he announced. "For now, he's not bleeding egregiously, and he's breathing. I wager we'll know more when he wakes up."

"Something's broken in his wrist," Ori told them. He'd stationed himself on Kili's other side and had been holding his hand. "I can feel it," his voice wavered. He asked the question none of the others dare give voice to. "Where is Fili?"

"A prisoner," Thorin said, almost inaudibly. He'd sat down close to the fire and opened the parchment. One hand fisted Fili's braid, holding it unconsciously to his chest as his eyes scanned the rest of the document. "He's been taken. And what's worse, they seem to want a ransom for his return. Listen to this," he cleared his throat and began reading from the parchment he held:

"My Dear Thorin," he began. "By now you have realized that your eldest nephew is missing. He is being held in a secure location by my associates and me. Despite wanting to abduct them both, I have returned the youngest to you as a sign of good faith. I trust he is not too badly hurt." Thorin looked around at his companions, took a deep breath and continued.

"We wish to trade your heir for a ransom of no less than one chest full of Dwarven treasure, which may consist of any combination of gems, gold or other precious metals," Thorin scoffed. "You can claim your nephew in three days' time, at the crossroad at Midgewater on the Great East Road. Come at midnight, unarmed and alone, with the ransom. Any perceived attempt at deception will end with his death. In the meantime, we'll simply enjoy the pleasure of his company." Thorin's voice broke and he faltered.

Balin gently took the parchment from Thorin's trembling hand and continued, "You will know my identity soon as enough, as your nephew has already seen my face. You spent several months making my life a living hell, Thorin Oakenshield. I look forward to returning the favor." Balin patted his friend on the shoulder. "That's all it says. There is no signature owning up to this heinous act."

Thorin scrubbed his hand across his face. "Fili," he breathed. "How did this happen? What have I done?"