The Gathering Storm. The Hobbit fanfic. A Thorin Oakenshield love story.

Chapter 70: The Master of Laketown.

Alfrid kept a tight grasp on Taryn's slender wrist as he dragged her through the streets of Laketown. Snow had began to lightly fall onto Taryn's blue cloak as torches light led the way to the Master's house. Along the way Taryn could hear murmurs as a crowd had began to gather.

'Clearly the crowd couldn't be because of me,' Taryn thought to herself as Alfrid pulled her along. She wondered how much he knew of her. It was clear that he knew she was an Elf and obviously not Bard's sister. But she wondered if he still believed that she was a widower, which as not true.

Thorin and the others were being manhandled and shoved through the narrow streets at the same time. The moon was out and the only thing that lit the way was the many torches. A crowd had gathered around them, that was obviously interested in seeing a group of Dwarves and one Hobbit.

"Get off of me!" Dwalin shouted to one of the guards as he shoved him.

Most of the Dwarves were yelling, pushing, and shoving as they tried to get out of the guards grasp. The guards just ignored the Dwarves as they shoved them one last time, and they came to a halting stop. The group was surrounded by guards and stood before the steps of a large grand heavily wooden doored building.

Thorin stopped in his place, unlike the others he remained calm. That was until he saw a man with a grasp on his wife's arm. The man was pulling Taryn up the steps of the giant grand house that must belong to the Master. Thorin became livid and shoved out of the grasp of the guard that was holding onto him. He could see by the look on Taryn's face that she did want to be taken to the Master.

Taryn narrowed her eyes as she frowned up at Alfrid. She was pulling at him, trying desperately to get out of his strong grasp. She so did not want to meet the Master. She had a feeling he would be just as gross as Alfrid, maybe even worse.

As she tried to get out of Alfrid's grasp, she looked over her shoulder and saw Thorin. He was being led to the Master's house also. 'Maybe they had been caught at armory,' Taryn thought to herself.

"Thorin!" Taryn called out to her husband, in a pleading for help tone of voice.

Thorin glared at the man tightly holding onto Taryn's wrist. He didn't know who he was, but he knew he wouldn't let anyone touch his one. He pushed pass the guards and ran over to the steps of the house. He tightly grabbed Taryn around her waist and pulled her out of the man's grasp.

Thorin held onto Taryn protectively as he pulled her back down the steps. Alfrid spun around on his heels and glared, when he noticed someone had taken away his prize.

"Oi!" He shouted to the man, who was obviously a Dwarf. "Who are you?" Alfrid asked Thorin as he raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "And why is your arm wrapped around my Edda?"

Taryn rolled her eyes at Alfrid's questions. He knew she was an Elf now, but it was obvious that he still did not know who she was. And apparently he believed still that she was a widower.

Thorin was livid, as he listened to what this man was blabbing about. "She is not yours," he growled out at the man, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "She can't even stomach you," he hissed to him. "I am her husband," Thorin said as he wrapped a protective arm around Taryn. He then began to utter curses in Khuzdûl at Alfrid.

The other Dwarves snickered and laughed as Thorin cursed. Taryn frowned as she could only understand half of what he was saying.

Alfrid glared down at Thorin from the steps of the Master's grand house. He hated that he said Edda couldn't stomach him, but he hated even more that Thorin was muttering in Dwarvish. He knew it was some kind of insults even if he couldn't understand them. "Oi!" He shouted again. "She said she was a widower," Alfrid bellowed out.