Thorin Oakenshield king under the mountain was most certainly Not nervous. The line of Durin did not get nervous, certainly not over such a small thing as the impending arrival of his arranged marriage bride. Such a tiny, isignifigant thing to be so worked up over, yet the thought of the caravan winding its way to his mountain at that very moment sent a team of acrobatic butterflies into coniptions inside his stomach. His bride had been chosen as a name from a list. Of course the list included lineage and a lovely recent picture of the being he would soon be wed to, but still the fact that in two weeks after her arrival he would be marrying such a delicate creature such as the fairy woman astounded him. For durins sake he might break the little thing the moment he tried anything remotley rough with their lovemaking. Sighing heavily Thorin forced himself to stop pacing and regain his regal and aloof air, composing his mental state into something more managable. He would handle that mile stone when they came to it. After all he had two weeks to speak to his bride before their wedding night. Hopefully fairy's wernt as flimsy as they looked. Otherwise the dwarven king was doomed to spend the rest of his life servicing his own sexual needs himself. That prospect didnt exactly make the king happy in the slightest. The horns that blew each time someone of importance entered the mountain sounded loud in the halls and instantly Thorin's back straightend like a ramrod. She was here. Sitting himself down on his throne and ruthelssly pushing the nervous thoughts aside the king under the mountain forced his face into cool passivity. He was ready to meet his bride..no matter how young and foolish he felt on the inside.