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Thorin couldn't sleep. The vision of Kale facing this filthy orc alone wouldn't fade, making him toss and turn on his bedroll. She had bested the creature, using her long thin whip with a skill he still couldn't believe, but he would never forget the moment of sheer panic that had flooded through him. 'No, no, no, don't die, don't leave me' was the only conscious thought he had, and he had defeated his own opponent on instinct alone. Hiding his mounting confusion behind gruff manners, he had pretended not to have seen her able fighting, subtly calling into question her worth for the Company. He couldn't bear the thought of watching her fight again – and perhaps being defeated this time. He gave up on sleeping at last, got up and left the circle of light cast by the fire, quietly walking over to where someone was still sitting at the second fire.
"Why would he send you away, Kale?", Thorin suddenly heard Bilbo's voice, stopping him dead in his tracks. "You have proven yourself more than once, and the Company can use every able fighter.""You know him better than I do!", she replied, "He deeply mistrusts everything and everyone he does not understand. And he can't possibly understand me, seeing as I don't understand myself most of the time." Bilbo smiled, "We all feel like that sometime – even him, I am sure." Kale smiled back, "Well, I guess… Still, none of you is a mixed one – and part Elf, part Dwarf with a little bit of Man thrown in at that. " "Yes, I was wondering about that, I mean, how… who were your parents?" "My mother, Silariel, was a mixed one herself. One of her grandfathers was a Man who met and fell in love with an Elf, eventually staying with them. My mother had a restless spirit, probably the influence of the Man blood", Kale rolled her eyes, "and when Thranduil called together an army to go and support the Dwarf warriors, she joined and traveled to Erebor. She was dismayed to watch Thranduil leave without helping, and stayed behind alone to offer her skills to the dwarfs. Thrór didn't trust her, but she met another, rather exceptional dwarf," she smiled wryly, "Gorim, my father, saw her for what she was – a fiercely loyal companion. So they married and had me – Kalara Gorimsdaughter… Isn't it ironic – here I sit, offering my skills to Thorin, with him making the same old Dwarf mistake again! Sometimes I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake this foolishness out of him." She sighed.
"Why don't you leave, then?" Bilbo asked simply. Kale was quiet for a long time. Then she looked at the Hobbit squarely and said, "Well, that I can tell you - I stay because… I love him." She sighed. Bilbo blinked in surprise. "Yes, I love him. I would die for him, if I have to." she continued. "But… I'd much rather live for him, you know."
He smiled. "But how… why would you love him, I mean, he's gruff all the time, and altogether not even quite… likeable, is he?" he asked.
"Why do I love him," she repeated, staring into the fire. "Well, how to explain… It's like everything he does tugs at my heart. When he fights, wielding his sword like a master, when he barks his orders, like the king he is. When he almost smiles, looking into the far, probably remembering a dear sight. When his gaze follows the ravens across the sky, when he looks into his cup at night at the camp fire, looking like the loneliest creature in Middle-earth, despite the whole Company. Even when he scowls at me, unsure what to make of me. Yes, I do love him, and I would never leave him." She looked over to where Thorin was supposed to be sleeping, face set, "He can't make me leave, try as he might!"
Bilbo looked at her and smiled fondly, "He would be mad to try. He knows your worth, he is just … well, unsure." Kale looked back at the Hobbit and said, "I wish there was some Hobbit in me as well. It seems to be giving everything a bit of a… balance." This time Bilbo laughed outright, "I am flattered, but I don't know… We can get pretty testy over…, say, leftover pieces of dinner meat." Kale joined in the laughter, getting up, "Well, then I am glad that with Dwarfs there never is any leftover food at dinner! Good night!". "Good night!" Still chuckling, Kale and Bilbo went to their bedrolls to finally try and get some sleep.
Thorin watched her go. He felt overwhelmed and numb at the same time. She loved him. She wouldn't leave him. One part of him wanted to tie her to the next tree just to keep her save, but in another part hope had raised its powerful head, envisioning the two of them together, charging fearlessly against any foe and finding peace sitting side by side at a camp fire. Hardly moving till the fire had burned low, he finally made up his mind.
Gentle hands nudged her out of her half sleep. Opening her eyes, Kale looked into the turmoil of feelings that was Thorin's face. She half sat up quickly. "What is wrong?" she said anxiously, reaching for her whip and preparing for another surprise orc attack. "Are there more orcs..." . He shook his head, unable to speak, and placed the index finger of his right hand over her lips. She stilled at the touch, looking up at him. He opened his mouth, cleared his throat, tried to speak "I… " and shut his mouth again, pressing his lips together and looking helplessly across the camp, as if there might be something there to aid him. Kale stayed still. Taking a deep breath, he looked at her and tried again: "I… shall not make that same mistake.", he managed to say, voice hoarse, "and I shall certainly not make a worse one."
Kale looked at him in confusion, but then it dawned on her. This particular choice of words, the very ones she had used just now talking to the Hobbit… "You overheard us…", she began, the movement of her lips intensifying the contact with his finger. He gave one nod, watching the blush reach first her cheeks and then her temples. She swallowed, moving as little as possible in order not to break the contact.
"A worse mistake?", she asked quietly. He nodded again, "Not to trust you would be madness, but…, but letting you go would be worse than death, it… would be hell. I didn't want you near me for fear of… of having to watch you go, being killed by some orc or other. I… thought, I… couldn't do that. But I know now that that is not my worst fear. My worst fear is to watch you leave me without your knowing my feelings. I…", he swallowed hard, clearly reaching the hardest part for him, "I… I love you, too! You must not leave, and you better not let yourself get killed – but most of all… Love me back!". He nearly spat out these last words, glad to have mastered them, and watched her intently. A little smile spread across her face. "As you will, my king", she said, gently kissing the finger that was still placed across her mouth, taking his hand and kissing first his palm, then his inner wrist. He let out a deep breath he hadn't known he had held, and trailed the sides of her face with his other hand, his calloused skin scraping over her soft one. "On one condition, though!" he added. "Oh," she said, "and what is that?". He smiled, "You will teach me how to wield the whip!".