“Son of a bitch!”
Bilbo sat up and looked around his bedroom. This was not what he had expected when he had closed his eyes to sleep on the way to the West. He’d grown old and crotchety in his smial and moving to Rivendell hadn’t really changed that. Traveling to the West had just added to his attitude.
What he hadn’t expected was to go to sleep and then wake up in the past.
“You want me to be what?”
“Stiles, we need someone who knows Derek, is comfortable with him, smells like him, and is willing to be touched by him,” Peter listed off their requirements for the role they wanted him to play.
“Thorin, Fili, and Kili will sleep with the stone until Mahal releases them,” Balin explained as Bilbo stared at the biers holding the Durin’s. “Dáin will keep things steady until Dís gets here to take the throne.”
Stiles held out his hand, pinky finger extended for Scott to shake. He smiled when the other boy shook his hand that way. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”
“And I’m glad you’re mine,” Scott said with a smile.