Answers to reviews:

Rubix Raptor: Thanks.

Lilspooky221: I won't delete it. I've already gotten all the chapters written down, up to the last one, so this story was completed before it had even been published.

Mrmarcusj95: Dwarves are stubborn, and even a being like Liante can have his patience run thin.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit. I only own the OC Liante.

They arrived at Bree after three days of travel. It had taken quite a lot of discussion between Thorin and Gandalf (and eventually Liante, too) to convince the exiled King to stop here. The company were eager to be back on their feet, and a few let out relieved groans as they stretched their stiff backs and legs after the long hours of riding. They stayed in the Prancing Pony, well Gandalf, Bilbo and the Dwarves did, Liante opted to remain outside as he could go a while without sleep.

Of course, they were on the move again the following morning; the sun was still low on the horizon. Bilbo hung back to talk to Liante. The son of Morgoth had told him tales of a few of his travels. He seemed particularly eager to hear about Rivendell.

"What's it like?" he asked eagerly. "I have read many books about it, but I'm sure it'll be different coming from someone who has been there herself, and probably quite recently."

"It's quite a sight to behold." Liante said, eyes unfocused as he thought of Rivendell, namely the special Elf in his heart that lived there. Unwillingly, a flash of a beautiful smile came to the forefront of his mind before he shook it away. "It was built on the naturally occurring ledges of the valley. They use hot springs for baths and there are many waterfalls and rivers running around the place. It's one place that I have come to call home… though it took quite a while for me to think that way."

"How so?" Bilbo asked curiously.

Liante glanced at him. "Because there was one time where Elves distrusted me, Master Baggins."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, though that was shattered when Thorin called Liante up to the front. Narrowing his eyes at the barking order from the Dwarf, Liante urged Shadow on until he came to a stop beside the Dwarf leader's pony.

"What is it?" Liante asked in a neutral tone.

"It's getting dark. See if you can find a place for us to rest the night. I hear your eyesight is better than ours, so if anyone is able to find something, it'll be you," Thorin ordered tersely. "We'll wait for you here."

Liante almost snarled. He did not take orders from anyone. And he did not like to be ordered like some mongrel pup. However, he just kept his expression blank, gave a barely noticeable nod, before urging Shadow on into a gallop to ride ahead. He had passed this area on his way to Bree a month ago, and if he recalled… there should be a ledge on a cliff not too far from here. As Liante broke through the line of trees, he looked up to see the ledge he thought was here. In front of it, however, was a nightmarish scene.

An overturned carriage was surrounded by completely torn up bodies of - from what Liantecould tell from the meagre remains - two peasant men, a woman, and even… a child. The child was the most intact of them all, All four of them were surrounded by fresh blood. Only the shallowest areas were dry. Which meant whatever had attacked these innocent people was still nearby.

Liante got off Shadow and approached the scene, crouching down to examine the bodies and also take several sniffs of the air. The air was foul with the stench of blood, as well as a scent that belonged to one certain creature.

"Orcs." Liante muttered with narrowed eyes. He looked down at the child and sighed before reaching out to gently close his eyes, then stood and walked back over to Shadow, swinging himself up onto the saddle and turning Shadow back in the direction of the company.

They were waiting for him not too far away. Thorin was alert when he saw the expression on his face. "What is it?"

"An attack," he replied. "It was brutal and harsh; no doubt the work of orcs. We should be careful for a while. That said, there is a ledge not too far ahead that we can use for the night."

Thorin nodded stiffly once, before the whole company began to lead their ponies in the direction Liante had travelled. Thorin nodded to him to take the lead, and he led the way up the hidden path up to the ledge, taking a wide path so they wouldn't encounter the violent scene he had, namely due to the fact they may not be able to stomach the scene. But Liante had seen far worse in his life.

The ledge was big enough for them to keep the horses and ponies a fair distance from their camp.

Thorin turned to Oin and Gloin. "You two, light a fire."

They nodded and began preparing a small campfire. Liante sat himself down against the cliff face. True to his word, the ledge was sheltered from the wind, which rolled over their perch and left them largely untouched. That being said, it did not offer much protection from any rain. Bombur and Bofur quickly got to work preparing a meal once the fire was lit.

Liante denied any food, saying he'll go hunting in the middle of the night. He'd rather be far away from the Dwarves when being in 'that' form, the form that was more unpredictable and less controllable.

Later that night, the company had fallen asleep, save for Gandalf, Fili and Kili, the latter two keeping watch. Liante was also awake, now leaning against a tree with his arms crossed as he stared out ahead, eyes lost in thought. He briefly focused upon seeing Bilbo awake and giving his pony an apple, making the son of Morgoth snort quietly. However, a shrill shriek killed in amusement he had within as his head snapped up, recognizing the sound.

Bilbo looked around in alert. "What was that?"

Kili's expression was calm yet serious as he answered. "Orcs."

Bilbo's face paled further. "Orcs?"

"Throat cutters." Fili nodded. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them at this hour."

Liante begged to differ. 'Orcs can travel in packs, yes, but there hasn't been a pack large enough to be an army in years… not since…' He shook his head to stop that train of thought.

Kili's lips twitched almost imperceptibly up at the side, and Liante's eyes narrowed as a flash of annoyance rose up in him. An attack by Orcs was no joking matter. "They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep," the younger brother said. "Quick and quiet. No screams; just lots of blood."

When Bilbo looked about ready to faint, the two cracked up, their eyes shining and snickers escaping their lips.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin asked sharply, drawing Liante's attention to the Dwarven prince who had his eyes on his nephews. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

At least the young Dwarves looked ashamed of their words. "We didn't mean anything by it." Kili muttered, eyes downcast.

"No," Thorin growled, "you didn't. You know nothing of the world." The exiled King then turned and stalked towards the edge of the cliff. By this point, most of the Dwarves were awake, the loud voice of their King rousing them from their slumbers.

Balin walked up to the brothers. "Don't mind him, laddie," he murmured to Kili, who still looked guilty. Fili was slowly becoming himself again, though his usual cheeriness was absent from his face. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs." Liante glanced at Thorin, then back at Balin.. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf kingdom of Moria." Balin sighed. "But our enemy had got there first."

'Yes, the battle of Moria.' Liante thought. He hadn't been there, but he had heard of it. He shook his head when he heard of the Dwarves' goal to reclaim Moria, finding it needless and folly. The Dwarves had just lost their mountain to a dragon, and thought they could reclaim another one of their kingdoms that was festering with legions of Orcs? He forgets how stubborn Dwarves can be.

"Moria had been taken by legions of orcs led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began," Balin's voice wavered for a moment, before he continued, "by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Death and defeat were upon us." Balin glanced at Thorin, and when he turned back, Liante could see the respect in his eyes. "That's when I saw him; a young Dwarf Prince facing down the pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armour rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived." Once more, the white haired dwarf glanced over at Thorin. "And I thought to myself then... there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."

When at last Balin finished his retelling, Thorin sucked in a deep breath and turned back to face his Company, an expression of sorrow beyond all reckoning on his face. Yet it did not strip him of his strength. One by one, the members of the Company stood, each of them silently pledging their loyalty to him.

"But the pale orc," Bilbo muttered. "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole from whence he came," Thorin spat out bitterly. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Liante shared a glance with Gandalf, both of them having a feeling… that Azog still lived and breathed at the moment.

Liante glanced over to the darkness, narrowing his eyes. His eyesight was better than anyone, and though he did not see anything in the darkness. He knew the tense feeling in his body from years of experience, enough to register what the feeling was.

The feeling of being watched.

For six weeks they continued like this; camp, travel, camp, travel. It was on this day their luck turned sour.

At around noon, their sunny streak ended. Rain fell hard over their heads. Liante wasn't really that bothered by it, but he did throw up his hood.

"Mr. Gandalf!" Dori yelled. "Can't you do something about this deluge?"

Liante almost smirked as Gandalf replied. "It is raining. Master Dwarf. And it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you want to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another Wizard."

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked.

Gandalf looked down at him. "Any what?"

"Other Wizards."

"There are five of us," Gandalf replied, turning his gaze forwards again. "The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are two blue Wizards... Do you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"And the fifth?" Bilbo asked curiously.

"That would be Radagast the Brown." Gandalf stated with a smile.

Bilbo hesitated. "And is he a great Wizard or is he... more like you?"

Liante couldn't hold back his amused chuckle.

The Wizard in question huffed. "I think he is a very great wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals over human beings. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the east, and a good thing too, for evil will always look to find a foothold in the world."

Liante's good mood evaporated in an instant. Did Gandalf feel it too? A shadow was growing in the East. What it was, Liante knew not, and he dread to think what kind of threat it could be.

They arrived at a farm later that day, thankfully the downpour had stopped and the sun had come out to dry it all up. But now, the sun had started to set upon their arrival at the farm. At the sight of it, Liante frowned.

The farmhouse was completely destroyed, like something big had ran through it.

Liante got off his horse and approached to examine the scene, briefly noting Gandalf and Thorin following him.

"A farmer and his family lived here." Gandalf muttered grimly. Evidently, they did not survive whatever attacked this place. As Thorin walked over, Gandalf spoke louder. "I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the hidden valley."

Liante looked at Gandalf while Thorin's face etched into a scowl. "I told you already, I will not go near that place." The Dwarf nearly growled.

"Why not?" Gandalf asked, sounding nearly fed up with the Dwarf's stubbornness. "The Elves could help us. We could get shelter, food, rest, advice."

"I don't need their advice." Thorin spat.

"We have a map that we cannot read." Gandalf pointed out "Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help?" Thorin scoffed, looking at Gandalf with hard eyes. "A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves that day? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The Elves looked on and did nothing! You are asking me to seek out the people who betrayed my grandfather… who betrayed my father."

"You are neither of them." Gandalf retorted. "I did not give you that map and key so you could hold onto the past."

"I did not know they were yours to keep." Thorin shot back sharply, locked in a battle of glares with the Wizard.

Gandalf huffed and turned, storming off which caught the company's attention. "Gandalf, where are you going?" Bilbo asked.

"To seek the company of the only one who's got any sense." Gandalf said sharply.

"And who's that?"

"Myself, Mr. Baggins!" Gandalf raised his voice, then muttered under his breath. "I've had enough of Dwarves for one day."

Liante shook his head and walked off to hunt, well aware of Thorin calling to him. "And where are you going?" The Dwarf asked sharply.

"Hunting." Was all Liante said.

Over a mile away from the destroyed farmhouse, where the company had made camp, a small herd of Deer numbering at just over forty was quietly gazing in a small flow filled meadow. Several nearby Bucks were testing their strength against each other while a number of Does and their infants either grazed or played nearby in the early morning sunlight.

However, not too far away from the small herd, hidden amongst the brush was a massive dark creature, silently creeping through the bushes, it's six eyes focused on the herd before it. It's body was in the shape of that of a large Spider, easily the size of a horse if not slightly bigger. It's mouth, filled with venom producing fangs and a set of pinchers on each side hissed in hunger as it took several steps forward before pausing as one of the Doe's head shot up and began to look around. Several others followed suit as their instincts told them they were being watched.

Several minutes passed as a number of deer ceased their grazing to examine their surroundings for what was setting of their senses, the offspring flocking to their mothers as the Bucks began to become agitated. Finally, just as it seemed the unknown presence was gone, the Spider erupted from the foliage with a loud hiss that caused the deer to scatter for their lives.

The Spider's speed defied its size as it raced towards a young Buck that caught its interest earlier. The deer saw this and put on another burst of speed as it tried to outrun the unnatural predator. The Spider saw this and hissed in annoyance as it suddenly shot a line of web from a small opening in its throat that stored a small abundance of web-like fluid that solidified upon contact with air. The web line as it neared the deer began to lose it's stream like appearance and began to turn into something akin to a net as it snagged the legs of the deer, causing it to trip and fall and allowed the Spider to immediately pounce on it, crushing one of the legs with it's weight while using several of its legs and unnatural strength to keep the mammal still as a pair of serrated fangs emerged from the Spider's jaws, each filled to the brim with a potent venom and sank them into the struggling creature beneath it.

The deer let out a series of pained terror-stricken cries before it ceased moving as the Spider bit into it again while dragging it's prey towards the foliage where it had set up a sort of web to hold the deer while it fed on it.

This was Liante's Spider form, an inherent ability due to being the son of Ungoliant, and the most powerful and strongest of his kin. Not all spiders could do this, however, for there were only two in the world that could change to fair form, Liante and his sister, Shelob. But while being in this form, Liante's instincts of a predator were at an all-time high and he was more dangerous to anyone around him, whether they be friend or foe, he wouldn't distinguish either from prey.

Which is why he always took on this form far away from anybody who could stumble onto him.

Once Liante finished devouring his meal, his form was covered in inky darkness. The legs regressed inwards, the thorax shrunk and shifted as did the head until standing in the Spider's place was a shirtless, sweat-covered Liantewith only a pair of tattered pants on.

"That should keep my more predatory hunger and instincts satisfied for a few weeks." Liante muttered as he walked over to where he had taken off his armor and sword, as well as draped his shirt over a branch, grabbing them to put them on. Once he was fully dressed, he walked off back in the direction of the company's location.

The sun had gone down, night had come, and the moon was full in the sky.

When Liante arrived at the camp, he frowned when he saw no sign of anybody and sniffed the air. He caught the scent of the Dwarves, as well as Bilbo and…

"Trolls." Liante hissed in disdain before he shot off in the direction the scent was coming from. It didn't take him long to find the Troll camp, and he remained hidden within the bushes as he looked upon the scene, frowning.

The Trolls had captured the company, some of them, as well as Bilbo, kept in sacks, while the rest were held over the campfire to be cooked.

One of the Trolls huffed. "Don't bother cooking them," he complained. "Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly."

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage," the 'cook' disagreed.

Dori scowled. "Is this really necessary?" he snapped.

"Ooh," the first Troll said, ignoring the Dwarf, "that does sound nice."

"Untie us you monsters!" Oin shouted, writhing in his sack.

"Take on someone your own size," Gloin snarled.

That caused everyone - except Thorin- to start yelling insults and whatnot, but Liante could hear the underlined tone of fear in many voices.

The third Troll, the hairiest of them all, suddenly growled. "Don't worry about the seasoning; we ain't got all night. Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone."

Liante narrowed his eyes and glanced at the sky. Dawn was indeed not too far off, and it would be easier to have the Trolls turned to stone rather than fighting them, lest he risk killing one of the Dwarves during the scuffle from having a Troll corpse fall on them. But how to play the distraction game until the sun rises?

"Wait!" All attention focused on the Hobbit in their midst. "You are making a terrible mistake!"

"You can't reason with them, they're half-wits!" Dori shouted.

"Half-wits? What does that make us?!" Bofur shouted back.

Bilbo somehow managed to wriggle onto his feet, where he then jumped closer to the Trolls, ignoring the Dwarves. "Uh... I meant with, uh, the, uh, with the seasoning!" he stuttered out.

One of them cocked his head to the side, his interest caught. "What about the seasoning?"

"Well, have you smelt them? You're going to need something much stronger than sage before you plate this lot up," Bilbo said, somehow managing to sound... amused. A roar of outrage came from just about every mouth.

"Traitor!" Thorin shouted.

'Hobbit, I hope you have a plan or this is going to end badly.' Liante thought seriously.

"What do you know about cooking Dwarf?" The hairy Troll asked, suspicious.

The other, however, pushed his friend out of the way. "Shut up and let the... flurgaburburrahobbit talk."

Bilbo sent the Troll a nod of thanks. "Uh... The secret to cooking Dwarf is to, umm..."

"Yes, come on."

"It's, uh..."

"Tell us the secret," The Troll probed.

"Yes, I'm telling you. The secret is to... skin them first!"

Liante facepalmed hard.

"No!" Thorin roared.

"What, skin us?" Nori asked with wide eyes.

The Troll closest to Bilbo smirked. "Tom, get me filletin' knife."

"If I get you, you little-"

"I won't forget that!" Dwalin growled, interrupting Gloin midsentence.

'Tom' sneered. "What a load of rubbish! I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all."

The first one nodded in agreement to his friend. "'e's right. Nothin' wrong with a bit of raw Dwarf. Nice and crunchy." The Troll grabbed Bombur and held him up over his mouth, apparently not bothered by the large dwarf's struggling.

"No, not him! He's infected!" Bilbo shouted.

"You what?"

"Yeah," Bilbo said, "he's got worms in his... tubes." With a squeak, the troll dropped Bombur back onto the pile of Dwarves on the floor. "In fact they all have!" Bilbo added quickly. "They're infected with parasites. It's a terrible business; I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

Liante blinked as he realized the Hobbit was also stalling for time and smirked. 'Color me impressed, Master Baggins.'

"Parasites! Did he say parasites?!" Oin roared.

"We don't have parasites, you have parasites!" Kili cried.

"Oh for the love of…" Liante muttered, rolling his eyes at the idiocy of the Dwarves.

A second later, though Liante suspected one of the Dwarves caught onto what Bilbo was doing and they soon began agreeing with the Hobbit.

"I've got parasites as big as my arms."

"Mine are the biggest parasites. I've got huge parasites."

"We're riddled."

"I'm riddled."

"Yes, we are. Badly."

"What would you have us do? Let them all go?" The Troll narrowed his eyes at Bilbo. "You think we don't know what you're up to? This ferret's takin' us all for fools!"

Bilbo huffed, indignant. "Ferret?"

"Fools?"

Gandalf suddenly appeared on top of a rock behind the trolls. "The dawn will take you all!" he shouted.

"Who's that?"

"No idea."

"Can we eat 'im too?"

With a powerful thrust, Gandalf's staff struck the rock, splitting it in half. Sunlight streamed through the gap. Shouting out in pain, the Trolls quickly became motionless, their greasy, smelly skin quickly turning to cracked stone.

The Dwarves cheered in delight and relief as Liante dropped down from his cover, looking faintly amused. "So… have fun?"

A knife whistled as it cut through air before impacting its target with a sickening crunch, making the Orc drop in a heap. A figure, draped entirely in black, stepped out of the shadows of the trees and walked up to the dead atrocity laying on the ground upon silent footsteps. He proceeded to unceremoniously rip the dagger from the Orc's head and slick black blood dripped from the blade.

An Orc hunting horn then sounded in the distance and he knew his prey was close.

Sheathing the knife in its matching scabbard facing downward and offset slightly on his back, he readjusted his hood to cast his face in complete shadow, hiding his identity. He then withdrew a gorgeous, black yew bow with solid silver reinforcing bars that looked like legs of a spider. The bowstring was made of spider's silk and gold filament to grant it complete power and precision over extreme distances.

Pulling an arrow from the hidden quiver on his back, the figure dashed off, intending to ambush his prey and ensure that the one whom he once set free would live.

"I am coming for you, Defiler. You shall pay for the tortures of the innocent." The cloaked figure snarled as he raced through the shadows of the forest without a sound.