Chapter Text
“Mama, Mama!”
Bella looked up from kneading dough as her two boys came tumbling into the kitchen. Dirt on their knees, twigs in their hair, and raspberry stains on their lips.
“Daisy told Petunia.”
“Who told Lobelia, who told Otho.”
“Who told Merrimac.”
“Who told Hamson.”
“Who told us that there are dwarves in the market!”
“They have toys!”
“And I suppose you want to go see them?” Belladonna asked, a slightly bemused smile playing on her lips as she tried to keep up with the young gossip vine.
Two frantically nodding heads were her answer.
“Alright then,” she sighed, pleased to see Fíli finally perking up over something since Frerin had left for Bree three days prior. “Go clean up and I suppose we could have a quick jaunt down to the market to see what all this fuss is about.”
She smiled with a wince at the high-pitched squeals of delight the lads released before scampering out of the kitchen, falling over one another in their excitement. Chuckling under her breath Bella returned to her dough, scooping it into a bowl before covering it with a tea towel. The trip to the market should give it sufficient time to rise.
Bella barely had time to hang up her apron and wash off the remaining flour on her hands before her two younglings came crashing into her legs.
“Can we go now Mama?”
“Please Auntie Bella?”
“Hmm, let me see. Are we all spick and span, proper little Bagginses?” she asked, turning to her boys.
“Yep,” they grinned, presenting her with freshly washed hands, their plump little cheeks were pink from a quick scrubbing, even their curls were relatively twig free.
“Then it’s off to the market we go.”
-x-
“Look boys,” Bella pointed, only slightly out of breath at the brisk walk from Bag End into Hobbiton proper. Thanks to the insistent little hands tugging at her skirts, they’d reached the market much quicker than usual.
Following Bella’s finger, the pair weaved their heads to-and-fro to see through the cluster of adults bustling about the busy market, until the crowd finally parted, and they could see what they’d come for.
Just as they’d been told, three dwarrow were manning a stall surrounded by excitable faunts and indulgent adults.
Bilbo squeaked in delight, quickly grabbing his cousin’s hand to drag the dwobbit to the stall. Belladonna following at a more leisurely pace, keeping an eye on the unknown dwarrow her boys were so excited over.
Squirming their way to the front of the crowd Bilbo gripped the edge of the table, gazing in awe at the array of toys before him.
“Look, Fíli, look. That one looks like Uncle Frerin.”
Fíli looked at the little wooden warrior Bilbo was pointing to, squinting at the braided moustache and short beard, taking in the little sword the little figure was wielding before shaking his head.
“No, Adad doesn’t play with swords.”
“He could,” Bilbo argued, rolling his eyes at his cousin. Neither noticed one of the new dwarrow heading their way, his curiosity piqued at the Khuzdul word.
“We would’ve seen them,” Fíli countered.
“Not if he hid them. Maybe he plays with them when we’re not around?”
Fíli opened his mouth to respond to his cousin before snapping it shut again as an unknown voice addressed them.
“Well snuff out my canary,” the dwarrow said. “A dwarfling? What are you doing so far away from the mountains?”
Bilbo puffed up like an indignant pigeon at the words, settling his best glare on the dwarf…even if he did find his hat a bit funny.
“Fíli’s not a dwarf,” he informed him. “He’s a dwobbit.”
“And what might be a ‘dwobbit’, young master?” the dwarf asked, eyebrow cocked in clear amusement at the aggravated little omega.
“A hobbit with dwarf ears,” Bilbo stated rather matter of factly.
“Boys, you’re not being rude now then, are you?” Bella asked, finally making her way through the throng of faunts to reach her own.
“No Mama,” Bilbo deflated slightly.
“Then I’m sure you’ve already introduced yourselves to the good Master Dwarf here before subjecting him to one of your explanations.”
Bilbo’s ears pinked as Fíli scuffed his feet, slightly embarrassed at their improper behaviour.
“Sorry Mama.”
“Sorry Auntie Bella.”
“My apologies, Master Dwarf,” Bella smiled at the stall holder.
“None required,” the dwarrow assured before sketching a small bow, hat flaps bobbing as he dipped. “Bofur, son of Borgur, at your service.”
“Belladonna Baggins, at yours,” Bella replied, nudging her boys.
“Fíli Baggins, pleased to meet you,” Fíli said, bobbing his head in an awkward approximation of a bow.
Bofur’s brows rose in surprise at the style of introduction.
“Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo huffed. “Also pleased to meet you.”
“And?” Bella prompted.
“And I’m sorry for being rude,” he grumbled.
“Apology accepted,” Bofur grinned. “So, what brings you to my family’s humble stall?”
“Toys!” both boys cried, grinning at the hatted dwarf, all previous slights forgotten.
“Well, you’re in the right place then. My cousin, Bifur, makes the best toys around.”
“You don’t make them yourself?” Bella asked as her boys went back to examining the various figures and contraptions on display.
“Ach, no, I can do a wee bit of carving to be sure, but I’m just a simple miner by trade,” Bofur answered.
“Indeed? And what’s brought a simple miner to our humble Shire? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh, it’s no bother. We’re making a bit of a trip, y’see, from the Blue Mountains to Erebor. This is just one stop of many, I suppose, selling my cousin’s toys. Gives us the advantage of earning money and lightening our loads. Well, at least until old Bifur fills our packs again,” Bofur grinned.
Bella almost started at the mention of Erebor, that far away mountain which had given her Frerin and little Fíli.
“Indeed,” smiling politely, Bella shifted closer to her boys. “And will you be staying in Hobbiton long?”
“Not as long as we’d like, so a couple more days perhaps? This is a lovely little place you hobbits have here.”
The tense line of Bella’s shoulders relaxed a mite at that. Fíli’s presence could easily be explained away, but she didn’t know how well known Frerin’s face was. Thankfully these dwarrow should be long gone by the time Bungo and Frerin returned.
-x-
“I see you’ve found them,” Bungo observed once he’d found the nervously twitching omega inspecting the short swords of Bree’s local weapon smith.
“Just had to follow the sound and scent of metal,” Frerin mumbled, his tensed posture relaxing a little at Bungo’s familiar presence. Picking up one of the swords he tested the balance. It was inferior to anything made by dwarrow hands, yet as a beginner’s sword he thought it should suffice. “I think this one’ll work for now.”
“This’ll certainly get the neighbours talking,” Bungo chuckled as he thought of the looks on his fellow hobbits’ faces at the sight of sword wielding dwarves, it might even send some of the more proper Bagginses scurrying back to their smials for a calming pot of tea.
“You’re sure you don’t mind me teaching him?” the uncertainty was clear in Frerin’s voice, even after ten years he still felt the compulsion to seek an alpha’s approval. He knew he didn’t need it, but that didn’t stop him looking for it.
“Frerin,” Bungo sighed, resting a comforting hand on the fretting omega’s shoulder. “This is your culture, your heritage. Though there is no doubt that Fíli is a Baggins, I am still fully aware that he is also a dwarf, to deny him this would be to deny who he is.”
“Thank you,” Frerin smiled, head instinctually dipping down in a brief show of submission.
“Do not expect him to learn like a normal dwarfling however,” Bungo added, his smile taking on a mischievous tilt more commonly seen on his wife’s face, as he nudged Frerin to look at him once more. “He is, after all, the dwobbit my son has labelled him. I have a feeling his hobbit sensibilities may make your task more challenging than it otherwise should be.”
“You’re probably right. This isn’t going to be easy.”
Purchasing the short sword, Frerin was somewhat surprised as Bungo bartered for his own.
“What...?”
“If you believe for one moment that you’ll be able to teach Fíli without Bilbo wanting to join in then you’ll be proving yourself to be as dim-witted as a Bracegirdle. Like peas in a pod those two, where one goes the other is sure to follow.”
With a defeated sigh, Frerin resigned himself to teaching both of his trouble finding nephews.
No, he thought, this certainly wasn’t going to be easy.
-x-
All it took was a single excited squeal of Adad! for Frerin’s anxiety tensed body to relax. Mere seconds later and he was on his knees, arms open in welcome as his dwarfling barrelled into him.
His senses were overcome with the scent of sun warmed curls and the tug of berry sticky fingers on his braids as his happy, healthy dwarfling squirmed as close as he could possibly get.
“I missed you, adad.”
“I missed you too, mizimith. So much.”
-x-
“Today this is your sword,” Frerin said, the soft grass tickling his bare feet as he walked around his nephews, shifting them into the correct stance.
“It’s a stick,” Bilbo pointed out, a puzzled expression on his face as Frerin tapped his ankles, making him shift his legs to a more balanced position.
“Why can’t we play with the swords you gave us?” Fíli asked, smiling as a monarch butterfly landed on the end of his ‘sword’.
“Because neither of you can lift them properly yet and you’re more likely to hurt yourselves than do any training.”
“So, we’re playing with sticks?” Bilbo quirked an incredulous eyebrow, a habit he seemed to be picking up from his mother.
“We’re training with sticks till you learn the basic forms of sword fighting. Once you’ve got those sorted, we’ll move onto wooden swords to build up muscle strength. When you’re at a stage where you won’t injure yourself or each other by accident, then, and only then, will we have a few training sessions with your actual swords,” Frerin explained for what felt like the hundredth time since the boys had been presented with their swords two days prior.
“Why do we have to learn?” Fíli asked, distracted as the butterfly fluttered over to a nearby flower.
“Because, as a dwarf, it’s part of your heritage,” Frerin explained, again, tucking a too short golden curl behind the dwarfling’s ear. “As an omega you only have to learn the basics if that’s all you want to learn. But if you want to go further then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“Why do I have to learn?” Bilbo asked, nose wrinkling.
“Because, little bunny,” Frerin answered, tapping Bilbo’s nose, “you’ll only get Fíli to teach you afterwards anyway, so I might as well teach you both. At least then I can be sure you’ll get the forms right.”
Bilbo grinned sheepishly at his uncle’s rather accurate guess.
Smiling indulgently at the lads, Frerin picked up his own stick, twirling it in his thick fingers.
“Now the first thing you need to know…”
-x-
“How were lessons?” Belladonna asked, a barely concealed chuckle tinting her voice.
“You are an evil hobbit, and I may just hate you,” Frerin groaned, words muffled where he had his head resting on his arms on the kitchen table, a cup of steaming tea beside him.
“You don’t hate me,” Bella laughed, nudging a plate of fresh biscuits closer to the aching dwarf.
“Why couldn’t you have warned me that you spent the days we were away getting them to practice root manipulation? Do you know how many times they made me trip? I’m going to look like I’ve been rolling around in a blueberry bush tomorrow with all the bruises I’m sure I’ll get.”
“Well how was I to know they’d use it against you?” she asked, the glint in her eyes betraying the fact she knew very well her young ones would put their newfound skills to use, especially Fíli who delighted in using his growing skills at any opportunity. “It seemed like a perfectly suitable distraction from the dwarves in the market.”
“What dwarves?” Frerin’s head shot up, a trace of panic showing on his face.
“Three of them, seemed quite jolly chaps to be honest.”
“Were they from Erebor?”
“No, Blue Mountains. They were just passing through on their way to Erebor though.”
Frerin slumped in his seat, only wincing slightly as a particularly tender bruise came into contact with the carved wood, “So we’ve been discovered.”
“I highly doubt that, dove.”
“How could we not? They’ll go straight to the King and tell him of golden omegas hiding in this little green corner of the world. We’ll be removed and marched straight back to the mountain.”
“Oh pish, do remove yourself from underneath that rain cloud, you’re making the kitchen terribly gloomy. They’ve many months left to travel between here and your dreaded mountain. Do you honestly believe that a King would listen to the words of toy merchants? They saw Fíli once, and he presented himself as any respectable Baggins would. I highly doubt they’ll even remember him at their journey’s end.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. Besides, we’d never let anything happen to you or Fíli,” Bella sniffed. “Now finish your tea and help me with these vegetables. Or would you rather hack at them with that menacing stick of yours?”
Frerin didn’t even dignify such a comment with a reply, merely lifting his mug to his lips. Though Belladonna was sure of their safety, Frerin couldn’t stop the niggling worry from worming its way under his skin.
-x-
It was not a good day.
The night hadn’t been good either, what little sleep Frerin had managed to get had been plagued with nightmares.
Multiple times he’d woken with a start, a cold sweat coating his skin over the feel of phantom hands holding him down. His terrified mind dragging him back to his grandfather’s cell, the gold crazed dwarrow leering over him. Pawing at him. Kissing and caressing his hair.
Bungo took one look at him as he shuffled into the kitchen after second breakfast and immediately began talking about adventures, and a hunt for Entwives in the Bindbole Wood.
Bella looked at her alpha in confusion at the mention of adventures, but her eyes soon fell upon Frerin and her confusion quickly cleared as she encouraged Bungo’s tales.
While Frerin slowly went about making himself a cup of tea, Bella and Bungo roused Bilbo and Fíli’s excitement till they were eager to head off in search of the elusive Entwives that cared for the woods.
“Frerin?” hesitantly Bella approached the pale, drawn omega once the boys were off on their adventure. Guilt stirred in her belly, sure her flippant words about the dwarrow in the market had caused Frerin’s current state.
“I’m fine,” Frerin croaked, making a valiant effort to smile, though the tremble running through it ruined any kind of reassurance he was offering.
“What do you need?” Bungo asked, not having moved a muscle since the boys had left, unsure how Frerin would react to an alpha in his present state.
Frerin slumped, tears glittering on his lashes as he shook his head. “I shouldn’t need anything. It’s been years, I know I’m safe. I know where I am, but…”
“Frerin.”
“Time? I-I think I just need time.”
“Of course,” rising from the table, Bungo carefully approached Frerin, reaching out to give a comforting squeeze to his hand when a slight nod gave him permission to touch. “Take all the time you need. You are home. We are your family. We’ll always keep you safe.”
Squeezing Bungo’s hand back, Frerin looked up, soaking in the alpha’s calmness.
“Thank you,” he said, overwhelmingly grateful for the family he’d been given as Bungo sat beside him, a quiet bastion against the fears still raging through him as Bella fussed about, gathering together a breakfast she knew he’d be able to handle as the knots in his stomach slowly began to unwind.
-x-X-x-
BANG!
“Uncle Frerin!” Bilbo called, not even glancing up from his book.
BANG!
“Your eggs are done!” Fíli finished, hand not pausing for even a second as he continued doodling on the parchment before him.
“They better not have been in the good saucepan!” Bella shouted from the bathroom, making both boys snicker as a guilty looking Frerin rushed past them to pull his boiled…and exploded, eggs from the stove.
From his armchair by the fireplace, Bungo chuckled, lowering his book to gently nudge Fíli. “Let us hope, for your aunt’s sanity, you don’t take after Frerin when it comes to the kitchen.”
Fíli grinned up at him, “I’ll try, uncle.”
-x-
The bread roll was perfection. A beautifully crisp crust, with a soft and fluffy interior.
The soup was thick and flavoursome. Perfect for dipping the bread into.
Frerin would swear upon all he held dear that it was the best meal he’d ever tasted.
…he’d also swear his opinion was unbiased, even as pride swelled in his chest.
Fíli and Bilbo beamed at the adults, flour smudges dusting their cheeks, and little drying spots of soup on their sleeves.
The twelve-year olds had done a brilliant job on their first largely unsupervised foray into the kitchen, using their first successful harvest to make the meal before them.
And if they encountered the odd bit of overcooked bacon, or a piece of leek that was crunchier and darker than it really had any right to be.
Well.
That was neither here nor there.
The boys had carefully tended to their mushrooms and vegetables.
They had made the choice to cook the products of their hard work for their family.
Frerin dared anyone to say it wasn’t the best meal they’d ever had.
-x-X-x-
“Fíli. Fíli quick, he’s coming!” Bilbo hissed, dodging through the tall corn stalks to his cousin’s side.
“Already?” Fíli squeaked, stuffing a final ear of corn into his bag with the carrots and parsnips they’d pilfered earlier. “I thought we’d have more time.”
“Well, you were wrong,” Bilbo’s heart fluttered like a frightened rabbit when the sound of howling reached their ears.
The dogs had picked up their scent.
“Oh bumblebees,” Fíli cursed under his breath. Settling the bag more firmly on his shoulder, he grabbed Bilbo’s hand and took off running. If they were lucky they’d reach the farm’s boundary before they were caught.
“Faster, Bilbo.”
“I’m trying,” Bilbo panted, stumbling after this cousin. “You’ve got longer legs than I have.”
“We’re almost there, almost there…” Fíli chanted, the broken rail in the fence was in sight, just a little further and…
“Oof!”
Fíli stumbled to his knees as Bilbo collided with his back. Spinning in the dirt, Fíli turned in time to see a large, black dog pick his cousin up by the scruff of his dusty shirt and shake him like he was a disobedient pup in need of a thorough scolding. A second dog stared at Fíli, making the young omega freeze lest he receive the same treatment.
“The Baggins lads? Bit young to be trying my fields aren’t ya?”
Looking up from his cousin hanging rather dejectedly from the dog’s mouth, Fíli turned his eyes to the old hobbit omega emerging from the corn stalks, a third dog trotting by his side. The disapproving frown on his face caused his wrinkles to deepen further, making them more resemble the cracks in a dried-up riverbed than the usual soft furrows of his beloved fields.
“Anything to say for yourselves before I take you home?” hands on his hips, the hobbit tapped an impatient foot.
“We’re sorry, Master Maggot,” the boys said, small voices thoroughly contrite.
With a nod of acceptance at their apology, he stepped closer, “Put him down, Grip, there’s a good girl.”
Bilbo dropped to the floor, though he quickly scrambled to his feet when Farmer Maggot’s fingers took a firm grip of his ear. Those work roughened hands were stronger than they looked, and Fíli’s own ear soon received the same treatment as they were marched from the field.
“Grip, Fang, Wolf!” Farmer Maggot called over his shoulder. “Stay and protect the farm, I’ll be back shortly!”
-x-
Bungo opened Bag End’s door only to be confronted by the grumpy, sun wizened face of Farmer Maggot.
“Good afternoon, Master Maggot, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit on this fine day?”
“Afternoon, Master Baggins,” Maggot greeted, tugging the boys forward. “I found some pests in my fields. I do believe they belong to you.”
“Ah, yes, that they do,” Bungo agreed, retrieving his boys from Farmer Maggot’s grip. It was a thing he well remembered from his own youth trying to keep up with his Belladonna. He could almost feel the tips of his own ears twinging in sympathy.
“Have you boys apologised for the trouble you’ve caused Master Maggot?”
Rubbing their sore ears, the boys nodded.
“They have indeed, Master Baggins, though I suggest they keep to their pastry pilfering from now on and leave my fields alone.”
“Of course, Master Maggot. Thank you for returning them and also my apologies for any inconvenience they have caused.”
“That’s quite alright,” Maggot huffed. “Good day.”
“What,” Bungo started after firmly closing the door and pinching the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, “on Yavanna’s green earth possessed you boys to make you think Farmer Maggot’s fields were a good target?”
“Um, we thought we’d be quick enough?” Fíli offered up in answer, muddy heel scuffing against the hardwood floor.
“Well clearly you weren’t. You’re barely into your thirteenth summer. The pair of you are far too young and inexperienced to take on such a challenge.”
“But we almost made it,” Bilbo groused, pouting slightly.
“Oh my boys, my dear, dear boys,” Bungo chuckled, hand dropping to his side, causing the boys to look up at him, tentative smiles on their faces. “You are, today, without a doubt as Tookish as our Belladonna, but remember that not even she managed to escape unscathed from Farmer Maggot’s fields until she was twenty-one. Now off to the kitchen with the pair of you, I’m sure she’d like a first-hand account of your adventures.”
Grinning the boys scuttled off to the kitchen with what was left of their bag of plunder, Bungo’s own smile grew at Bella’s proud crow and Frerin’s confused questions.
“You took on that old walnut? Oh my rose buds!”
“Walnut? What is it they’ve done this time? Wait, Maggot? Are you mad?”
-x-X-x-
The Old Took’s Litheday parties were renowned throughout the Shire.
Practically everyone attended, regardless of their opinions on the Took family’s version of ‘proper’.
And this year Frerin would be attending as well. Though he was becoming more and more certain he’d regret his decision, especially when the sound of the party reached them before the sight.
“You’ll be fine, dove,” Bella reassured, knocking him carefully with her hip.
Frerin smiled back at her, though it felt a bit strained.
-x-
“Hello.”
Frerin startled at the soft voice beside him, eyes jerking from the dancers to the hobbit now sitting next to him.
“I thought you looked a bit lonely over here all on your own, so I brought you a drink.”
“Thank you?” Frerin finally managed to say, taking the tankard of ale from the other omega.
“You’re Fíli’s adad, Frerin, aren’t you?”
“How…?”
“I’m Primula’s cousin,” the hobbit omega said, jumping to his feet to offer an exaggerated bow, somehow managing not to spill his own ale in the process. “Merimas Brandybuck, at your service.”
“Oh, um, Frerin Baggins, at you and your family’s,” Frerin offered, inclining his head far enough for his braids to slip over his shoulders.
Merimas’s grin softened as he sat beside Frerin once more.
Peeking at Merimas through his lightly swinging braid, Frerin wondered what was going to happen now.
What he didn’t expect, however, was to spend the rest of the evening engaged in quiet conversation and gentle laughter.
Nor did he expect the happy smile that lingered on his lips when the Baggins family finally made their way home, Fíli a stumbling sleepy weight against his side.
-x-
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, warm and inviting, a gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers and warm, fresh bread through the air. It was an almost perfect day to be outside, a fact Bilbo greatly lamented as his forehead made solid contact with the wooden top of the desk.
“Why do I have to learn this? Numbers hate me and Fíli’s better at it anyway,” he grumbled, refusing to lift his head, even though he was very much tempted to glare at his cousin when the older snorted quietly, quill scratching diligently against parchment.
“Because everyone needs to learn the basics of mathematics, and as my heirs you both need to learn that extra bit more. Finances and rents don’t add themselves up you know, you need to engage that quick-thinking mind of yours, my lad,” Bungo explained, ruffling his son’s hair.
“I’d rather wear uncle Frerin’s boots,” Bilbo muttered under his breath as he finally raised his head to pick up his quill and grimace at the numbers on the page. He was much more suited to languages and literature, not this mathematical rubbish. That was more Fíli’s area, his dwarfish side preferring the more ridged structure of numbers, than the easy flow of words. “Where is uncle Frerin, anyway?”
“I believe he’s having elevenses with Merimas Brandybuck,” Bungo answered absently, having turned back to the estate’s ledgers while the boys worked on their sums.
Bilbo blinked at that. Slowly.
“Did you hear that, Fíli?” he asked, turning to his cousin, who had finally looked up at Bungo’s words. “Uncle Frerin’s gone out socialising.”
Fíli turned to Bilbo, eyes widened slightly, “Consider my flabber well and truly gasted.”
-x-X-x-
Music and laughter filled the air. The scent of food drifted, mouth-wateringly, on the gentle breeze. With his belly pleasantly full and a mug of the Gamgee’s finest ale in hand, Frerin relaxed in his usual fashion at such an occasion, seated on a bench to watch the hobbits dance.
Although this time he was paying particular attention to the dark-haired alpha lad currently making his golden nephew blush as he spun him around to the music.
“Frerin, my dear, how are you?”
Holding back a groan Frerin turned to the old omega making herself comfortable beside him.
“I’m well this evening, Adamanta. Yourself?”
“Oh no complaints, dear. It was a lovely wedding, was it not?”
“It was indeed,” Frerin answered politely, fighting the urge to flee. He was a dwarf, of Durin’s line no less, they stood their ground…but at that moment, Frerin would’ve happily hidden in a deep mountain cave to escape what he knew was coming.
“So, taken an interest in any strapping young alphas recently?”
“No, can’t say that I have,” Frerin cringed at the question.
“Oh? And why ever not? Handsome, young lad, such as yourself, can’t be lacking in admirers.”
“I’ve no desire to bond with any alpha.”
“Bond? Oh, my boy, who said anything about bonding,” Adamanta Took tittered. “Oh no, Yavanna forbid I suggest such a thing to someone so young. But a little dalliance? Now that I could whole heartedly support.”
“Dalliance?”
“Yes, you know a good bit of ploughing can set the world to rights.”
“I…” Frerin squeaked, flushing to the tips of his ears. Fifteen years and he still wasn’t used to how open and, at times, blunt hobbits could be. But in all fairness, he shouldn’t have expected any different from the mother of Belladonna Baggins.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be an alpha, of course, if you’re that way inclined. Why just last week in the market, I heard one of those young Brandybuck omegas admiring the way the sun made your hair positively gleam. Like a drop of it had fallen from the sky, they said.”
“D-dwarrow don’t have dalliances.”
“Why ever not?”
“It’s not proper for an omega to…to sleep with anyone other than their alpha, and even then that’s only once they’ve bonded, and the omega’s heat has struck.”
“What a load of codswallop,” Adamanta sniffed. “Utterly ridiculous. What’s wrong with a good roll in the hay? Everyone knows a good relationship is like a good recipe, it takes time, tweaks, and a good deal of taste testing.”
“I didn’t make the rules,” Frerin pointed out somewhat glumly.
“Well, you’re practically a full hobbit after all these years, though you’re more of a Baggins than I’d like, but still! I think it’s about time to indulge in a bit of fun,” with a resolute nod, Adamanta looped her arm through Frerin’s and pulled him from the bench, ale sloshing over the rim of his mug as he tried to keep his balance.
“I can assure you, Adamanta, I’m perfectly fine,” he tried.
“Nonsense! Now where is that lovely Brockhouse lad?”
“Mother? What in the blazes are you up to now?” Belladonna asked, suddenly appearing at Frerin’s elbow.
“Young Frerin and I were just about to go talk to young master Brockhouse over there, weren’t we lad?”
“I…um,” Frerin stuttered, throwing pleading looks Bella’s way.
“Are you trying to matchmake again, mother?” Bella asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion even as her lips twitched in their want to smile.
"You would accuse your poor old mother of such a thing?” an age worn hand fluttered to Adamanta’s chest in mock affront.
“I would and I do. You leave Frerin alone, if he wants to have a spring fling then that’s his decision not yours, you nosy old thing.”
“Well I suppose I can just turn my attentions to my darling grandchildren then, they’re of an age for their first blushing romance after all,” Adamanta sighed wistfully, finally releasing Frerin’s arm to start her search for her next victim.
“And keep your mitts off my boys!” Bella called to her mother’s retreating back.
“Where are the boys?” Frerin asked once he was finally safe from Adamanta’s matchmaking attempts.
“Bilbo’s over there, dancing with one of the Gamgee lads it looks like.”
“And Fíli?” he asked after a scan of the dancing hobbits didn’t reveal his nephew…or the dark-haired alpha.
“Perhaps he’s gone to get more food? Don’t fret, Frerin, he’ll be fine. Now go find Bungo, he’ll keep you safe from mother’s clutches. Or perhaps you can go save Merimas, I think I saw him at the mercy of several aunts not too long ago.”
-x-
The moon had almost reached its peak when Bilbo snuck into his cousin’s room.
“Fíli?” he whispered. “Are you awake?”
When no sound came from the lump under the blanket, Bilbo huffed.
“Fíli,” quietly making his way to the side of the bed, the young hobbit shook his cousin’s shoulder.
“Ugh, what?” Fíli grumbled, blue eyes blinking sleepily as he tried to glare at his grinning cousin.
“Oh good you’re awake. Budge over,” with an unrepentant grin Bilbo shoved the sleepy dwobbit over before clambering under the covers.
“What d'you want?” Fíli asked before burying his face in his pillow to stifle a yawn.
“What did Hugo want to talk to you about?”
“Um…”
Bilbo watched in fascination as pink spread across his cousin’s cheeks, the blond fuzz covering them only highlighting the colour change instead of hiding it.
“Come on, tell me,” Bilbo whined, poking a heated cheek.
With an embarrassed huff Fíli swatted at Bilbo’s hand.
“Tell mee!”
“Fine!” Fíli hissed. “He gave me a lilac.”
“A lilac? What colour?”
“Purple,” the dwarven omega mumbled, his cheeks getting hotter.
“Really?” Bilbo beamed. “Anything else?”
“He, um, he kissed me,” Fíli admitted before trying to smother himself in the pillow as Bilbo squealed excitedly.
“He kissed you?! Where?”
“On the lips,” said lips quirked into a small smile as a blue eye peeked at the hobbit positively vibrating with excitement.
“What did it feel like? Was it special? Was it magical?”
“It was….” Fíli paused for a moment, brows creasing as he tried to think of an apt description. “Squishy.”
“Squishy?”
“Yeah, but a good squishy. Made my lips tingle a bit.”
“Oh, he likes you! Do you like him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? But he’s a Bracegirdle, uncle would never forgive me.”
“I suppose he has nice green eyes,” Bilbo mused, ignoring Fíli’s Bracegirdle comment.
“I prefer brown,” Fíli huffed.
“Ugh, you’re such a mole,” Bilbo rolled his eyes, playfully shoving his shoulder. “Always prefer things that look like the earth.”
“Says the one who likes blue eyes because they remind him of the sky on a clear summer’s day,” Fíli recited in an appropriately dreamy tone.
“Oh hush. Are you going to meet up with him again? Do you think he could be it? Is he going to court you?” Bilbo gasped.
“I’m too young to court,” Fíli squeaked. “He wouldn’t, would he?”
“Maybe, I’m pretty sure it was him I overheard the other day talking about hair the colour of wheat in the morning sun blowing in the wind, or something like that.”
“Well he’ll never be a poet, that’s for certain,” Fíli’s nose wrinkled in distaste.
“So if he’s not the alpha for you, then what do you want?”
“I want an alpha like autumn,” Fíli mused.
“Autumn? What, fat off the harvest and chilly?” Bilbo snorted, earning himself a light punch to the arm.
“No, you turnip. Like the colours, all warm browns, and untameable like the fallen leaves dancing in the wind. I want them to be loving and cosy, like being wrapped in a warm blanket with a mug of tea in front of the fire.”
“That sounds nice,” Bilbo hummed. “But I’d still rather have an alpha that’s all summer sky blue and deepest night black. Endlessly beautiful and always there, no matter what.”
“Now we just have to find them,” Fíli snorts.
“I’m sure they’re out there somewhere,” Bilbo mumbled before a yawn broke free.
“Finally tired?” Fíli asked, earning himself a nod. “Feel like going back to your own bed?”
“Course not, my bed’s cold,” Bilbo answered, snuggling down under the warm quilt.
“It wouldn’t be if you had stayed in it,” Fíli grumbled half-heartedly, eyes already drifting shut as they both fell into dreams of summer skies and dancing autumn leaves.
-x-
“Young Merimas has been fretting out there for a while now,” Bella noted, twitching aside the curtains to peek at the nervous Brandybuck pacing in front of their gate, nervously gnawing on a thumb nail.
“Perhaps you should go see if he’s alright, Frerin,” Bungo suggested, a glint in his eye as he looked at Frerin over the top of his book.
“Me? Why me?”
“Oh that’s a splendid idea!” Bella beamed, completely ignoring Frerin’s question. “Be a dear and see if he needs a bit of tea to calm those nerves of his.”
Buckling under the looks the pair gave him, Frerin huffed as he heaved himself from the comfort of his armchair to see what was wrong with the fretting omega at their gate.
“Merimas?” he called, just loud enough to catch the Brandybuck’s attention. “Are you alright?”
“Frerin!” Merimas startled, staring at Frerin with wide eyes as a deep flush stole over his cheeks. “I-I…”
“What’s wrong?” Frerin asked, a slight frown tugging at his brows. He’d never seen Merimas so agitated before. He was usually a rather calm omega, whose company Frerin always found quite enjoyable.
He was almost to the gate when Merimas seemed to take a deep, steadying breath. Standing tall, with his shoulders back and head held high, he asked in a voice that only trembled slightly, “Frerin Baggins, I was wondering if you’d like to join me for afternoon tea and a walk tomorrow?”
Frerin froze, his hand dangling where he’d been reaching for the gate.
What Merimas was asking, what he was suggesting, was the beginnings of a courtship.
Heat spread through his cheeks as he gaped at the soft, hopeful brown eyes looking up at him.
“Yes?” Frerin finally squeaked, still not entirely sure what was happening was real.
Merimas’s face lit up at his answer, however unsure it seemed, his wide grin showing off his slightly crooked front teeth.
“So I’ll see you then?” he said, practically bouncing on his toes.
Frerin nodded, thoroughly unprepared for Merimas to lean over the gate and press a quick kiss to his cheek. At the slight brush of lips against his skin, Frerin couldn’t stop his fingers from flying to his cheek in shock.
“Bye, Frerin,” Merimas said shyly, both of their cheeks now freshly aflame as he gave a slight wave and practically skipped down the hill.
Frerin watched him go, stunned into stillness.
“Well?”
Turning in a daze, with his fingertips pressed to the tingling skin Merimas had kissed, Frerin looked up to find Bella standing in the open doorway.
“He asked me to tea.”
“Oh, dove, that’s wonderful!” Bella practically cooed. “Come on in, this deserves a slice of cake in celebration!”
As Bella ushered him in he was met with Bungo’s expectant gaze.
“Well?” he asked, unknowingly echoing his wife.
“Frerin’s going to tea!” Bella announced as she headed for the kitchen and the fresh sponge cake just waiting to be sliced.
Bungo smiled at her words, though it slipped at the faraway look in Frerin’s eyes and the fingers pressed to his cheek, “Frerin?”
“He kissed me.”
As soon as the words passed his lips, Bungo’s eyes sharpened as he shifted back into the embroidered cushions of his armchair.
“Were you alright with that, Frerin?” he asked seriously. “Or would you like me to go and have a word with young Mr. Brandybuck about acceptable behaviour?”
“Huh?” looking at Bungo, Frerin’s eyes cleared as the meaning of his words finally registered. “Oh! No, it was fine.”
“Ah, I see,” Bungo hummed, gentle smile returning to his lips once more. “The wonder of a first kiss.”
“Not my first,” Frerin mumbled, fingers finally falling from his cheek as less than pleasant memories began to nudge their way in.
“It’s the first that matters,” Bungo said gently, yet firmly, as he leaned forward to press his fingertips against Frerin’s knee to bring him back to the present. “Just focus on that.”
“Will you walk with me to Merimas’s smial tomorrow?” Frerin asked, voice uncertain and timid.
“Of course. Would you like me to chaperone as well, or will you be alright on your own?”
“I-I think I’ll be alright on my own, just walk with me there?”
“Of course,” Bungo smiled reassuringly, patting Frerin’s knee. “And if it all becomes too much, you don’t have to stay. You’ll be there because you want to be, not because you have to be.”
-x-
Fíli froze in the doorway to the kitchen, fist paused in the process of scrubbing his eye.
“Um, adad, what happened?”
The kitchen was a mess, ingredients dotted all over the place, and the faint smell of burnt baked goods lingered in the air.
It almost made Fíli want to turn on his heel and go straight back to bed.
All he’d wanted was a glass of water, and instead he’d walked into…this.
“Adad?”
Frerin stood in the midst of the chaos. An apron was tied over his nightshirt, but it hadn’t appeared to have stopped the flour from coating him. His braids were in disarray, and Fíli was fairly certain he could see cake mixture coating the end of one of Frerin’s moustache braids.
He was staring dejectedly at what seemed to be the misshapen and blackened lump of a cake before him, so lost to the world around him he hadn’t even heard Fíli speak.
Shuffling around the table, Fíli nudged himself under Frerin’s arm, pressing into his side.
“Amad?” he tried.
Finally Frerin’s tired eyes blinked, his arm automatically coming up to wrap more firmly around Fíli.
“Fíli,” Frerin sighed, head turning just enough to press his nose into Fíli’s messy curls, breathing in the comforting scent of his sleepy dwarfling.
“What were you doing?”
“I…tea with Merimas.”
A frown dipped Fíli’s brow, “But I thought you were taking some of your jams?”
“I am, but how can I just take jam? I wanted to do something else too.”
“Amad,” Fíli huffed, snuggling closer, effectively covering his own nightshirt in flour. “You’re fretting again. Auntie Bella says that Merimas really likes you, you shouldn’t fret.”
“It’s not really something I can control, mizimith,” Frerin admitted, smiling softly at the eyeroll Fíli didn’t even try to hide.
“Ok,” Fíli said, heaving a very put-upon sigh. “I suppose I better help you then, so Auntie Bella doesn’t ban you from the kitchen permanently.”
“Thank you, madtithbirzul.”
“Auntie Bella showed us how to make seed cakes?” Fíli offered, frowning at the array of ingredients around them.
“That would be perfect,” Frerin smiled, managing to give Fíli a reassuring squeeze, even through the anxiousness buzzing under his skin.
“Ok, we, um, we’re going to need butter, sugar, flour, caraway seeds. Um, brandy?” Fíli scratched absently at his ear as he thought. “A bit of nutmeg, some mace. Oh! And eggs!”
“I should have all of that out. Why don’t you go wash your hands, and I’ll gather everything together from all this,” Frerin said, gesturing vaguely at the mess covering the kitchen table.
With hands washed and ingredients gathered they quickly fell into a simple system.
Fíli mixing, whisking, and sprinkling.
…while Frerin weighed out the ingredients and handed them over, Fíli not once letting him touch the mixing spoon.
They tidied as the cake baked, the air filled with Fíli’s humming of a tune popular at parties in Hobbiton.
It was calming, and Frerin could feel himself relaxing, surrounded as he was with the scents and sounds of home.
When the cakes came out of the oven, they were a little darker than they should be, and a little lopsided. But in comparison to Frerin’s previous attempts, they were perfect.
Reeling his boy in, Frerin hugged him tight, “Thank you, mizimith.”
Fíli snuggled closer, one arm wrapping around Frerin’s side, while the other reached up to clasp one of Frerin’s braids. It didn’t matter that Fíli was a tween now, the action was a comfort to them both. “I don’t mind helping. I just want you to be happy, amad.”
Frerin squeezed him tighter, blinking sudden tears from his eyes as he pressed a kiss to Fíli’s temple. “I am, my darling boy, I am.”
-x-X-x-
“So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Frerin asked. With his eyes closed, face tilted into the warmth of the sun, he didn’t see Bella carefully lower her cup to its saucer, nor did he see the speculative look sent his way.
“Well, I’ve been thinking, the boys will be turning 16 soon and perhaps it’s time to have a talk with them about sex. It won’t be long, after all, before their first heats, a few years at most, and I’d rather they be prepared for when they start looking at others in a more covetous fashion.”
Frerin nearly choked on his own tea at Bella’s words, “What?”
“Sex, Frerin,” Bella smiled. “You know that thing between two individuals? Rather physical but can feel rather wondrous if done right.”
“I…I know what it is,” Frerin could feel his cheeks burning, this wasn’t a conversation he ever wanted to have. “But why are you telling me?”
“Well, I’m quite happy to deal with it but first I wanted to ask you about the whole dwarven side of it. Fíli, after all, might have questions that I might not be able to answer. So I was wondering what dwarven parents tell their tweens when its time?”
“We, um, well we just basically get told that our heats make us fertile and an alpha is the only way to stop it hurting,” Frerin mumbled, now desperately wishing that he’d taken Merimas up on his offer of afternoon tea after the walk they’d had. “We’re, omegas that is, not to sleep with anyone but our alpha and our first time will be during our first heat after we’ve been courted by, and married to, our alpha.”
“You…that’s all you were told? Just wait for an alpha and they’ll do all the rest? No other useful information, nothing about the actual physical act? Not even a word about sex outside of a heat?”
Frerin nodded, staring intently as his tea, “Alphas get told more, but of course I wasn’t privy to that.”
“Well that’s utterly ridiculous!”
“I didn’t make the rules,” the words sounded bitter even to Frerin’s ears.
“No, some block headed alpha of your race likely did,” Bella huffed. “I swear if I ever come face to face with one of those confounded dwarves I’ll…I’ll…well I’ll most certainly not be inviting them to tea!”
Frerin couldn’t help but chuckle at Bella’s outburst. It was such a Baggins thing to threaten and never sounded right coming from the thoroughly disgruntled Took beside him.
“Well, there’ll certainly be one young dwarven omega that’ll have sufficient knowledge in this area,” she stated, sipping rather primly at her tea. “Not giving omegas a proper education in this of all areas, honestly! The utter nerve of your alphas!”
-x-
“Something the matter?” Bilbo asked absently, licking the tip of his finger to turn the page of his book as Fíli flopped down next to him with an irritated huff.
“Oh no, course not,” the blond muttered sarcastically, crossing his arms over his drawn-up knees and burying his face in the fabric of his shirt sleeves.
“Well if nothing’s the matter then…” Bilbo trailed off, turning back to his book.
“Of course something’s the matter!” Fíli practically exploded, head snapping up to give bilbo a half-hearted glare.
“How am I supposed to know that if you don’t tell me?”
“I saw Rudigar kissing Merriweather Bolger!” Fíli blurted.
“He…what?” Bilbo blinked at his cousin in shock. “But he only kissed you last week, and only yesterday he asked you to go for a walk with him!”
“I know! But he was kissing her behind the stables nonetheless.”
“Oh that, that, blighted little weed!” Bilbo cursed before he frowned in confusion. “Wait, I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I don’t,” Fíli grumbled, voice slightly muffled where he’d buried his face in his arms again.
“Then why are you upset over it?”
“I’m not upset, I’m annoyed!” Fíli glared at Bilbo again, but his cousin could see the hurt lingering.
“Fíli?”
“I don’t like him, I don’t…”
“But…” Bilbo coaxed. Book now laying completely forgotten on his lap.
“But he didn’t even have the decency to tell me he didn’t want me either. It’s not respectable or, or, proper to make someone think you want them only to go off and cavort with someone else!”
“Well the Bracegirdles aren’t exactly what anyone would call proper or respectable,” Bilbo shrugged. It was a rather well-known fact in their household, considering Bungo was often heard grumbling about them.
“Not the point,” Fíli groused, pouting as he slid down to rest his head on Bilbo’s shoulder. “What are you reading anyway?”
“That book of Elvish legends mama found in Bree the other month.”
“Anything good?”
“Well there’s quite a bit of fighting, and right now there’s this thing called a Balrog that’s made up of shadow and flame.”
“Doesn’t sound natural that,” Fíli shuddered.
“That’s because it isn’t,” Bilbo rolled his eyes at his cousin. “Want me to read to you so you can forget about your tragic heartbreak that could rival that of the heroes of old?”
Fíli swatted at his cousin for that remark, making Bilbo laugh and jostle Fíli’s head where it was still resting on his shoulder.
“Just read, you turnip,” Fíli grinned.
-x-
Belladonna thanked the apothecary as she turned from his stall in Hobbiton’s bustling market, tucking three small tins into her basket. The tins contained a salve that was smooth and slick, but not sticky. Perfect for omegas who needed that little bit of extra help when not in heat and for alpha males who enjoyed swapping positions.
Humming to herself as she perused the fishmonger’s wares, she planned on when to talk to her boys.
On the morrow, perhaps. Though over afternoon tea would probably be best, she reasoned, with Bungo squirrelled away in his study looking over accounts and Frerin having accepted an invitation to tea with Merimas, a fact which never failed to bring a smile to her face. It would be the only time that day she’d have the boys undivided attention.
Accepting the neatly wrapped salmon she’d chosen, Bella slipped it into her basket and headed home, a veritable spring in her step as she went. She was expecting embarrassed flushes and maybe some stuttering from her boys, Baggins raised as they were, but it was high time they had the knowledge, and a suitable salve, to start exploring their own bodies before they started thinking about exploring others.
And if the third tin somehow found its way into Frerin’s bedside drawer, alongside a few notes on its use.
Well.
That was no one’s business but her own.
-x-
The table was set.
The tea was brewing.
There were warm scones, and Frerin’s latest batch of strawberry jam and fresh clotted cream begging to be eaten.
With a final pat to her skirt pockets to check the tins were still there, Bella took a deep breath. Trying in vain to calm the burble of mischievous glee that wanted to tug her lips into a smile at the prospect of the coming conversation.
She was ready.
Bungo already had his afternoon tea in the study, and Frerin was off to the Brandybuck’s smial, fingers shyly entwined with Merimas’s as they walked down the path.
She was definitely ready.
All she needed now were two young Baggins omegas growing far too fast for her liking.
“Boys!” she called, leaning out the backdoor to watch Bilbo duck a swipe of Fíli’s training sword, only to then trip over the tree root his cousin had called to the surface. “Teatime!”
Bella watched, a soft light in her eyes and a loving smile on her lips, as her boys abandoned their wooden swords to stumble into the kitchen, flushed and laughing.
She didn’t even need to remind them as they headed straight for the sink. Washing their hands like the good little Bagginses they occasionally decided to be.
“Where’s Uncle Bungo?” Fíli asked, settling down at the table.
“Tending to his books,” Bella answered, gesturing vaguely towards the study. “I’ve got you all to myself today.”
Both boys froze, hands hovering above the scones, at her words. There was a slight Tookish tone to them that every hobbit learned to be wary of. The glint in her eyes didn’t help matters.
Drawing their hands back to their laps, the cousins shared a look before Fíli offered a hesitant, “Auntie Bella?”
“My boys,” Bella sighed, quickly doling out tea and scones. “As much as it pains us to know, you’re both nearing your sixteenth year and that means you’ll soon start noticing other hobbits in ways that are a bit different than friendship. If you haven’t already, of course.”
Fíli and Bilbo resembled startled rabbits as Bella went on. A growing dread rising inside of them as Bella kept talking.
Primula had told them of The Talk she’d been subjected to by her parents only a few weeks prior. They were rather horrified to realise it was apparently now their turn.
“…an omega’s heat, although it comes every month, is like the earth when the seasons change from winter to spring. Once dormant land becomes rich and fertile…”
Twin blushes spread on the boys’ cheeks.
“…the tea we drink is like using a watering can to soften the earth, it does the job, but there are better ways if you want to use them. Sex during heat is like a relieving spring rain…”
Their tea was getting cold before them, but they couldn’t quite bring themselves to reach for the cups.
“…an alpha’s knot is the best remedy, swelling to apply constant pressure to the pleasure points within an omega. But of course fellow omegas can be just as capable of supplying pleasure, or even yourself. The key is to experiment. Just like with growing things, you should experiment with what works best for you…”
Plain, unassuming tins were slid across the table to them
“…some omegas produce slick whether they’re in heat or not. Others, however, do not, or they don’t produce enough. And this is important, my rose buds, you must always be sure enough slick is used before engaging in any form of intercourse…”
If the earth of Bag End wasn’t currently under the firm grip of Belladonna, both boys would’ve begged it to open up and swallow them whole.
“…of course penetration isn’t the be all and end all of sex. You can use your mouth, fingers, hands. The important thing, as long as everyone consents, is to have fun, do what you feel comfortable doing. Sex isn’t a serious business, it’s there to enjoy if you want to…”
Their ears were burning. Their cheeks were burning. This was so much worse than Primula said it’d be.
“Any questions?”
Both shook their heads.
“Alright. Well, if you do think of anything, know that you can always come and talk to me.”
Both nodded.
“May we be excused?” Bilbo croaked.
Bella smiled almost sympathetically at them, “Of course. Perhaps you’d like to take some scones to enjoy in the sunshine?”
Loaded down with a selection of scones, jam, and cream, Bilbo and Fíli beat a hasty retreat.
“Boys,” Bella called before they could slip from the room. “Don’t forget these.”
“Thank you,” they mumbled as Bella slipped the tins into their pockets, cheeks burning hot enough to keep even a Fell Winter at bay.
-x-X-x-
