Last night….

Dwalin lay his forehead against Kili's. "Tomorrow, laddie, we are goin' t'sit down wit' Thorin and the wizard and craft us a plan t'get your brother back. In the meantime, you are goin' t'get some rest. Yes?"

"Yes," Kili told him. "Mr. Dwalin? I would appreciate it if you didn't talk to my uncle about what I just told you."

"It shall never be spoken of again," he promised, reinforcing his words with a warm half hug, as he led Kili back towards camp.

The next evening...


Eönwë studied his brother carefully. Vaemyr sat at their mother's kitchen table, helping her chop vegetables for their evening meal. Two fingers on his right hand bore bandages covering freshly-popped blisters. Eönwë could tell those fingers, although glad to help their mother, were itching to pick up a book. The repetitious nature of scribing was taking its toll on Vaemyr. His writing hand was blistered most of the time and most evenings had to be soaked alternately in cold water, then hot, to get it to uncramp. He was using ointment for old men with rheumatism just to keep going at work. But there was something else, too. He wondered just what Connyn was holding over his little brother to make him go along with his nefarious actions.

Eönwë himself owed Connyn a great deal of money. He'd made the mistake of borrowing from his friend during a night of gambling. He'd been drinking and accepted and gambled away a great deal more than he could hope to repay. It's how he'd come to be in Connyn's service—how he and his brother were drawn into this madness of kidnapping a Dwarven prince. Had Vaemyr come along merely because his big brother was there too? Or was there more to the story?

Aetheorin, for example, had been Connyn's friend since their youth. Connyn, it seems, had pulled Aetheorin's little sister from a well and saved her from drowning. It was this act that bound Aetheorin to Connyn, Aetheorin had told the brothers one night over many ales. But how could Aetheorin go along with what Connyn was doing now?

"Let me take over the chopping," Eönwë suggested to his brother. "You give that hand a rest. We need to go back to the stable after dinner." Vaemyr nodded, willingly, handing over the knife, flexing his sore fingers and wincing. "Vae?" Eönwë lowered his voice. "Stay a moment, will you?"

Vaemyr sat down across the table from Eönwë. "What is it, brother?" he used his left hand to massage his right, eyes never leaving Eönwë's face.

"This business with Connyn," Eönwë concentrated on cutting up rutabagas. "Why are you doing it? It's… so out of character for you."

"And you!" Vaemyr retorted. "But I'm not questioning your motives."

"My share of the ransom is forfeit to Connyn. It's no secret," Eönwë said quietly. "And then I'm quit of him, for good."

"And my share is mine to keep," Vaemyr reminded him. "It's my passport out of this town. I-I need to get away, Eönwë. Too many bad memories here." He suddenly clammed up.

Eönwë's head shot up. "What do you mean? Our childhood has been… well, I think we've been very fortunate."

"Aye, we have," Vaemyr said quietly. "We have wonderful parents, enough food in our bellies. I just…" he broke off. "Eönwë, there are some days that I can hardly bear to show my face outside of these walls."

Eönwë knitted his brow in confusion. "Brother, you are of sound mind, healthy and employed. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"There are things you don't know about me, Eönwë," Vaemyr swiped a hand across his cheek to stop a tear from falling. "Things I can't bear to tell you." He rose quickly from the table. "I'm going to try to get a little sleep before dinner. My hand hurts," he offered by way of excuse and vacated the kitchen. Eönwë was left more confused and worried than before.


The food Aetheorin was eating smelled heavenly. "I'm sorry," the youth had told him apologetically when he entered. "Connyn said I'm not to give you any."

"You don't have to apologize," Fili replied, absently picking straw from his hair. "You're just doing your job." He wished he could see out the stall's window, but it was too high off the ground. The last rays of the setting sun were streaming in. "Looks like a lovely evening out there."

"It's fair," Aetheorin nodded. "Warmer than yesterday. Your clothing's still wet, I'm afraid. I'll bring them in as soon as they're ready."

For some time, there was no sound, but the whickering and stamping of horses in nearby stalls. Fili was nearly dozing off when he heard another voice. "I'm here, Aetheorin. You can go home." Fili recognized it as Vaemyr, the youth with the light blonde hair. He was alone. Aetheorin left without any parting words.

Vaemyr slipped into the stall, carrying a small bag. "Eat this quickly," he whispered. "Don't let my brother or the others see!" Inside were two small baked pastries. When Fili bit into one, he discovered it was filled with beef and some sort of root vegetable. Hungrily, he devoured them and drank heartily from the waterskin Vaemyr offered him.

When Vaemyr had hidden the secretive supper bag away in his belongings, Fili asked him, "Why did you do that? Connyn would be very angry if he found out."

"This doesn't mean we're suddenly best friends or anything," Vaemyr said, a little too harshly. "I'm just tired of always doing what Connyn tells me to do."

"Well, regardless of your motives, I'm grateful," Fili replied honestly.

"I don't bear you any ill will, dwarf," Vaemyr told him. "And I am sorry I had to hurt you." He kept rubbing at his right hand, which appeared to be giving him pain. "I am not by nature a violent man."

"I can tell," Fili nodded. "You seem very studious to me. Connyn clearly has something hanging over you."

Vaemyr's face suddenly blanched, and Fili's blood ran cold. It was obvious he'd touched on something painful.

Vaemyr was silent for a few moments, as if weighing his response very carefully.

When Vaemyr finally spoke, his words cut Fili like a knife. "You don't know about Connyn and your brother, do you?"

"M-my brother?" Fili's head shot up. "What about Kili? He has little to no association with Connyn."

Vaemyr nodded, understanding. "He never told you. Of course he didn't. Just as I never told mine." He sighed, and crouched down close to Fili in the straw "Listen, dwarf… There is something you need to know about Connyn—something he did to your brother…"


Dori and Nori returned from a scouting mission to Bree and were speaking with Thorin in hushed tones.

"I swear, by Mahal, it's the lad's coat," Nori told Thorin. "I'd recognize it anywhere."

"Aye," Dori echoed. "Hanging in a tree outside a stable, as if to dry. Along with his bracers, gloves and other garments."

"The stable's on the east side of town," Nori's voice was nearly inaudible. "On the road heading towards the Midgewater Crossing."

"The site is fairly secluded. What should we do, Thorin?" Dori wondered.

Kili had heard enough. He slipped away from his hiding place, behind a tree near the conversing trio. He already knew what he was going to do, as soon as darkness fell.