Chapter 11

Mena had never been so glad to feel the sunlight warming her face, or the gentle breeze causing her dark hair to float into disarray. Frerin seemed to be of a similar opinion, given the grin on his face even brighter than the sunlight upon it, although his joy and gratitude was due to their distance from the goblins more so than just being outside of the mountain. He had been born to rock and stone after all.

They were both giddy with relief and exhaustion, and after walking as far as Mena could force her feet, she collapsed upon the grass, content to sleep where she had fallen. She suspected Frerin would have been able to continue for at least another couple of hours, although he was glad enough to rest for the time being. By a feat of unknown strength, Mena dragged herself back up long enough to crawl into a small copse of trees that would provide sufficient shelter, and Frerin followed. They both fell nearly immediately into a healing sleep, deep and dreamless, both willing to risk foregoing a watch that night.

The next week and a half consisted of making their way slowly down to mountain, being hindered by the lack of decent paths to travel, and Frerin's well meant but horribly thought out jokes. Mena ended up laughing at most of them anyway, but honestly! "So then Bilbo says to me, 'I started walking around without shoes, and it sort of became a hobbit!' Get it? A hobbit! Like a habit but... yah know." The girl had just chuckled at the foolishness, grateful that Frerin was well enough to jest, however poorly.

After many days of struggle, the two finally reached the more open valley below. Mena was glad to be done with mountains for the time being, although there were still several smaller ones around them until it turned to true fields and forests, but the worst was behind them until Erebor. For his part, Frerin was overjoyed to be that much closer to his home, and hopefully, his family.

Although the loss of their ponies, and thus many of their supplies, was very unfortunate, they both adjusted admirably, not minding much at all, though the dwarf grumbled mildly at the rationing of food that was now necessary. Mena didn't mind his good-natured complaints at all, knowing that he meant no harm, and would most likely starve himself before allowing her to go hungry.


Nearing dusk of a day when they had finally gotten out of the most mountainous terrain, Mena was strolling along a few paces behind the dwarf, looking at the beautiful flowers in the field they were walking through, when she heard a snapping of branches and something suspiciously like a growl. She whirled around just in time to see a huge, dark, furry creature burst from the brush merely forty yards behind them. Yelling a warning to Frerin, she began to sprint as fast as she could, hoping the legendary short-distance speed of the dwarves was no myth.

It seemed the stories were true, however, as the golden-haired prince easily out-distanced her to begin with, but then she could see him slowing his pace to put himself between the furry monster and Mena. They continued to run, but Frerin refused to leave her, and she wanted to yell at the stubborn dwarf to save himself, but she had no breath to spare.

Thankfully, the strange cabin-like house they had seen from a distance came ever nearer as they ran quite literally for their lives, and when they reached the door, miraculously the bear, for the large furry creature was a bear indeed, was still fifteen yards away, and closing fast.

Frerin reached the door mere moments after Mena, keeping his body between the human and the threat at all times. She slammed into it with the force of her speed, then reached up and flipped the handle, allowing the door to swing open. They collapsed into the doorway, slamming it shut behind them and bolting it, before slumping over and gasping for air.

Less than a week later, Mena and Frerin set out once again, more grateful than ever to still be alive after the rather terrifying confrontation with the shape-shifter. They had remained inside the walls for over an hour before a giant of a man had opened the door and literally growled at them both. Mena had somehow been able to convince him to let them live, and even stay for a short time, and Beorn (as they had later learned to be his name) had miraculously consented.

Even to the day they were leaving the shape-shifter's home, Mena had no idea how she had convinced him, only that she had pleaded humbly and possibly added a few pitiful tears for good measure. Now, re-supplied and refreshed, the human and dwarrow set out yet again, Frerin's excitement not allowing him to stay and rest at Beorn's for longer than a few days. Mena was just as excited to see him finally reach home after so many years, and was more than agreeable to get back on the road again.

Unfortunately, while they were now several hundred miles closer to Erebor than they had been at the start, one final horrible hurdle still lay between the dwarf and his home. Their bright moods dissipated, and both Mena and Frerin shuddered slightly and were very reluctant to take on the next challenge. For before them, looming ominously in a terrifying fashion, lay the dark and twisted stretch of Mirkwood.