Mother,
You may or may not believe this, but we are, yet again, with the elves. This time however, our situation is a little different. I wouldn't exactly say we're guests.
While trying to get through Mirkwood we may or may not have run into some enemies. Nothing we couldn't handle of course! But the elves decided to take us captive after they found us, and I think Uncle may just light one of them on fire with his glare.
We aren't, however, in any danger. One of the elves here, a rather nice one (tell me again while you all hate them?) provided me with some paper and a quill. Well, two quills, I broke the first one. Everything here is so dainty, it's nearly comical.
Don't worry, we have a great deal of food and it's fairly comfortable. It is, however, difficult to sleep with all of that cursing from where Thorin is imprisoned. Did Thrain not put soap in his mouth when he swore, like you did with us? If so, I'd like to request a full refund on my childhood.
Thorin hasn't thought about this yet, probably because he's a fuming mess, but a few choice visitors from Ered Luin with a few choice weapons is quite the idea to us, if you know how I mean.
I suppose it doesn't matter, they wouldn't be able to get us out before Durin's day. I doubt that this will even reach you before Durin's day!
I'll probably write you soon; since this guard has taken a liking to me (I am, after all, quite lovely). I do hope that I learn how to properly use a Mirkwood quill before that time comes.
Your obvious favorite,
Kíli.