Chapter Text
The sound of a horn pierced through the silence and made Bilbo startle in his armchair where he was relaxing for the evening. Bells rang out next followed by many whoops and hollers as omegas left their rooms and ventured out filling the halls in their curiosity. Bilbo marked the page he had read up to and placed the book down before leaving the comfort of his chair. He walked over to the open door and watched his fellow omegas celebrating on their way down the grand staircase.
“Excuse me,” Bilbo called quietly and raised his hand when he was ignored. “Um please, could someone tell me what’s happening?” Still he was ignored as the gathered cheered and moved steadily on.
“Alright Bilbo, aren’t you coming?” Bilbo turned to find his dwarven friend Bofur walking up to him while wiping sleep from his dark eyes. His black hair was tussled, freed from the two messy braids he wore and his woollen hat was missing from his head.
“Coming where? What is all this commotion about?” He asked since he was new to Weathertop and had never experienced anything like this in the Shire.
“Found an Alpha sniffing around the compound, heard he’s a Ranger too, must of caught the scent of his One, no way a Ranger’s caught without wanting to be.”
“So why the need for all the theatrics?” Bilbo questioned referencing to the muted cheers as the omegas were out of sight.
Bofur eyed him incredulously. “A Ranger, Bilbo. His One is in this building, course everyone’s gonna try their luck, I wanna catch a glimpse of him see if he takes my fancy. Come on, Bilbo, no harm in looking.” True enough there was no harm in looking and looking was all that Bilbo intended to do as he felt no pull towards the alpha.
He nods his consent and leaves the room with Bofur only now noticing the dwarf was ill-attired dressed only in a nightshirt and thick furred boots. There was woodchip in his beard from whittling in bed but he hadn’t the heart to tell him. They walk down the staircase and across the marble floor towards the Great Hall where the doors stand wide open and the gathered wait with bated breath.
“Should have got here earlier,” Bilbo grumbles as he cannot see past the crowd. As a Hobbit he stood at a mere three foot six and was the smallest in attendance. It was not so in the Omega compound in the Shire. There he was of average height but the years he had spent without success of finding a mate had forced him to leave and try his luck at the next Omega colony that welcomed all races.
“’Ere don’t fret, stand on one of these,” Bofur offers dragging over two chairs, as he cannot see either. Together they climb up and look over the heads of men and elves to view a vacant stage. Bilbo turns to address Bofur but his companion’s eyes are fixated on the stage and he wonders if he feels the pull of a soul bond. He turns his eyes to the crowd and finds dozens of omegas staring at the stage, some with interest like his own, others with hunger, a few with desperation and one or two with a look he once wore. A look of hope and unadulterated joy at the possibility of finding their soulmate.
For a moment he feels sorry for the Alpha for surely the scent of so many tempted omegas must be driving him insane. It would be cruel to parade him on stage and let him drown in pheromones but he fears that is what they mean to do and have clearly done it before. It was not so barbaric in the Shire. When an Alpha gave himself up, whether from coming out from hiding or presenting as an alpha he was treated with respect, counselled and introduced to omega’s one by one so he does not become overwhelmed. It was against the rules for an unattached alpha to be introduced to an omega, near or in heat due to their incapability to make informed decisions however judging from the smell in the hall that was another safety measure that was not considered.
A gavel strikes three times against a sound block and a hush as silent as the grave falls over the hall. Moments later two hunter’s walk out with an untethered Alpha of the race of men between them. Free from manacles his arms rest by his sides but his hands are fisted against his nondescript black Ranger robes as he tries desperately to keep his self-control. Bilbo watches as the blue-eyed Ranger eyes each omega in turn, leaning more towards the elves in the room and his fellow men than to the hobbit and the dwarves in attendance.
It was said that an alpha had some inkling towards the race of their soulmate but due to their notorious unreliability to restrain themselves from temptation it was useless information. He thinks about this now as the Ranger only has eyes for men and he wonders if his senses are pulling him or that he was more comfortable with his own race. In the beginning it was thought that Omegas and Alphas of the same race were destined to be together but since then the notion had been disabused as many interracial couples had bonded and procreated creating entirely new species.
An abrupt nod and a point of the Alpha’s finger and it was all over. A sigh of disappointment echoed in the hall as rejected omegas turned and went back from whence they came no longer interested in the proceeding. Bilbo was quite taken aback by their selfishness as a soul bond was a thing to be cherished and celebrated and he desired to see a matched pair meet for the first time as he hadn’t seen it before.
“Can you believe it?” A man complained and one look in his direction revealed Alfrid Lickspittle. “Just presented as an Omega and already gets an Alpha, it’s not right. Alphas should be given to the ones that have been here the longest!” Much to Bilbo’s disdain a few others agree and it ignites a fire in his belly.
“Leave ‘im, Bilbo, he’s not worth it.” Bofur intervenes preventing him from stepping down from the chair.
“Talk like that is dangerous,” Bilbo huffs and crosses his arms stubbornly. The treatment of Alphas had never sat right with him and though he did protest his voice was drowned by those that shared Alfrid’s opinion.
“Look, the Ranger surrendered for this, just watch.” Bilbo does so only because he knows his fight is futile. He turns back to the stage and watches as a strawberry blonde Omega is led up the side stairs to the stage. Even from so far away he can see the Omega tremble and recognises him as Boromir, the Steward of Gondor’s son. He had been at the colony for less than a week so he can understand the others jealousy, as he approaches fifty he feels as though he has been left on the shelf too.
When Boromir approaches the dark-haired Ranger, the Ranger takes his hands in his and kisses the back of them reverently. He is older than Boromir, at least twice his age from his world weary appearance but Boromir is taken with his mate and looks upon him in awe that it sparks a little happiness in Bilbo’s heart. Their first kiss is followed by applause which Bilbo enthusiastically partakes in and then the couple is led off the stage and the petty whispers begin again.
“Probably followed him from Gondor.”
“Just wants his title.”
“Overreaching Alphas.”
Once again Bofur prevents him from arguing and they put the chairs back and leave the hall. “Was it everything you imagined?” Bofur asks, leaning against him as they walk up the stairs and fluttering his eyelashes.
“It was,” he agrees. “It was beautiful.”
“Aww Bilbo, you’ve the heart of a poet.” Bilbo snorted then, unable to take offence since none was given. “Right I best get to bed, early to bed early to rise an’ all that, gotta hunt tomorrow.” Bilbo stopped in his tracks and eyed his friend in disbelief.
“Please tell me you are joking?” He asks though he fears the answer from Bofur’s downturned mouth. There were two hunts held every day in each jurisdiction where Hunters would escort an omega in heat out into the wilds in the hopes of ensnaring an alpha. The hunts were once hugely successful until the alphas became wise to their entrapment. Most chose to hide further in the shadows but a brazen few would abduct the omega and some weeks later the omega would reappear thoroughly ravished and pregnant.
“My cycle starts tomorrow; I’m just doing my bit.” Bofur mutters ashamedly with his eyes trained on the floor. Bilbo cannot fault him for his need to give back, as omegas they were treated like royalty and given everything their heart desires and their only duty was to have children which he and Bofur had not done.
“Be careful, you don’t want to end up like Bard, do you?” It is terrible to talk disrespectfully of Bard but his fear for Bofur is very real and he must. Bard was a good sort, allegedly descended from royalty but if there were any truth in the claim none could be found. Bard was one of the first omega’s to be abducted during a hunt and when he was found three weeks later dehydrated and disorientated he had claimed an elf and a dwarf were working together. No one believed his story and as the months passed by and his belly swelled none cared as he had done his duty and later gave birth to a girl. Some years later, aching for another child he joined the hunt and once again was abducted and reappeared some weeks later pregnant once again. His story had not changed from his first, that an elf and dwarf were working together and had shared him between them.
When Bard went missing a third time he was not on a hunt and many guessed he had gone in search of his abductors. Omegas by their very nature were not good hunters, they could not track and though they could smell basic scent patterns, they could not distinguish one alpha from another unless it was their One. So it was assumed Bard had bonded with a feral alpha and reluctant to give him up he had made an outlandish tale to throw hunters off the scent. When he returned pregnant once again telling the same tale as before the elders allowed him to keep his secret alpha as long as his belly continued to swell with children.
Needless to say Bard had returned not three months back pregnant and telling the same story to anyone who would hear it. Bilbo was happy to hear the story as he had not heard it before and he had wondered why Bard had three children and a fourth on the way and no alpha. It was scandalous to an old-fashioned sheltered hobbit with his head in the clouds and stars in his eyes. Bard did not relent in his tale, a dwarf and an elf had found some common ground between them and were working together. Bilbo had nodded along and made the appropriate noises but he didn’t believe him at all.
“Three weeks of mind-blowing sex? Hey ho, worse things ‘appen at sea.” Bofur chirped merrily and Bilbo coloured in response. “Hey now, what’s this? Ya not honestly blushing cause I said sex, are ya?” Bilbo had no words and remained quiet. “You’re acting like a prude and we both know you’re not. I read those short stories ya like to write, that one with the elf and dwarf, nice.”
“You weren’t supposed to read that,” Bilbo grumbled under his breath.
“Tomorrow I’m gonna catch you an alpha so he can get you out of those stuffy clothes and put you on your back.”
“Bofur!”
“Okay your front then,” Bofur offered with a cheeky grin wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“Good night, Bofur.” Bilbo insisted and pointedly walked ahead towards his quarters.
“Sweet dreams friend,” Bofur called with a wave and continued down the hall towards his own quarters.
Not to be rude, Bilbo returned the wave and entered his quarters and shut and locked the door. It was needless to lock the door as Omega colonies were the safest places in Middle Earth but it offered him privacy which Weathertop sorely lacked. It was his own fault really for leaving the safety of the Shire and submerging himself into a world he hardly knew. Hobbits were terrible gossips and yet private all the same. They did not speak freely of their cycles nor did they intrude into other hobbits living spaces, they treated each other at an arm’s length. Here it was not so and to hear the way some omegas speak left Bilbo feeling uncomfortable.
Bilbo rests his back against the door and eyes the prison cell before him. Each room came with an antechamber boasting a working toilet and sink and a large bed, three walls of brick and one of metal bars to cage a feral alpha. They had once come with a bath until an alpha attempted to take his own life beneath the water and the plans were scrapped along with any form of privacy the alpha may have had.
It is a shame such cages became a necessity but when it was decreed that an alpha cannot hold any position of power or responsibility and were deemed property of their omega they had rebelled and chose freedom than to be oppressed. Less and less alphas gave themselves up when they presented and tried to hide their true nature or simply ran away which made cages and hunts a necessary evil.
Bilbo approaches the cage and stares through the bars at the large bed. His alpha would lay there one day, as he had come to realise his alpha was a feral. For years he had waited in the Shire believing his alpha would come for him, as the Ranger had come for Boromir but with each passing year he realised he would age out before his alpha would come. So he took initiative and left the Shire in pursuit of his One.
The colony in Weathertop was vastly different to the Shire as they encouraged omegas to leave the compound and actively search for their One. The surrounding village also held bi-weekly auctions of alphas captured in hunts. Money never exchanged hands in these proceedings instead the alpha was awarded to the omega with the greatest need. It had stunned Bilbo to learn that an omega could mate with an alpha without a soul bond and no judgement was passed. In the Shire poor Teddy Twofoot was known as ‘Four by Four’ and treated with disdain due to his inability to settle.
In truth Bilbo does not wish to wait his turn as they pass around an alpha as though it were a game of pass the parcel. The poor alpha was not property or a thing to be discarded, it was a person capable of the same emotions as an omega but thought lesser because of their genetic code. He can’t imagine taking anyone between his thighs other than his One but he knew if he had not found his alpha in time then he would have to before he aged out and became infertile.
He turns away from the spacious bed with a promise to himself that soon the cage would not be empty. He had taken the first steps in his pursuit to find his alpha and he would take some more and bite the bullet and go to the auction house. The place stank of desperation but Bilbo’s alpha had tarried too long and it was desperation that had driven Bilbo from his home.
Taking a reprieve from his current thoughts Bilbo took a seat in his armchair- a home comfort he had brought from the Shire- and took up his book once more. The Genealogy of Lothlórien Elves had intrigued him not an hour ago but now he found they were meaningless words on a page. Instead his mind wandered to the Ranger and he imagined the Ranger’s stubbly kisses against the back of his own hands. He did not begrudge Boromir for finding his One, in fact he had celebrated it. However, he had never witnessed such an exchange nor had he ever encountered an unbonded alpha before so his mind could only supply him so much by way of imagination.
He wondered what colour eyes his beloved would have although he could only picture the Ranger’s light blue. He imagined them full of love yet burning with desire so passionate it threatened to engulf them both in flames. He had hardly given a thought to the race of his One but he had gathered early on his One did not share his race. Alpha hobbits, though few and far between were homely creatures and immediately approached the elders when they presented as Alpha so that they could mate and start a family in the Shire. Bilbo’s alpha was most certainly a feral and wily to boot to evade capture for so long.
Placing his book down, Bilbo stood once more and walked towards the bathroom. His mind was aflame with thoughts that he decided it only wise to rest his head least he further injure his already fragile heart. Undressing quickly, he changed into his nightshirt still relatively uneasy with his own nakedness despite the flagrant nudity he had witnessed at Weathertop. He brushed his teeth afterwards and blew out the candles on his way to bed. The bed itself was a wide four post canopy fit for a King but as he crawled beneath the abundance of furs and laid his head down to rest he had never felt so small and insignificant and so very very undeserving of such luxury.