Author's Note: Welcome to my first fanfiction of the lands of Middle Earth, I've been needing some sort of new outlet to try and get more attention, as most of my stories are of smaller, less read genre. At this point in time, my only plot point I can think of to follow is the that of the Battle of the Greenfields, which is mentioned in the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, but neither go into depth, so basically, this is my take on that event. Of course, featuring OCs and original plot elements, this may expand into more than just that one plot element. I hope you guys enjoy this fic and as always, rate & review, and I'll meet you over in the next chapter!

"Mischievous Hobbits"

Chapter 1: "A Hobbit Heist"

"Just keep running!" The younger of the two hobbits called to his older brother behind him. "We can't let them catch us again!" He said, before barely making over one of the taller hedges in yard.

The older hobbit could barely keep up with younger counterpart, he was staggering behind quite a bit, and it was soon to be his turn to attempt clearing the same hedges that his brother had, which would be no easy task, as he did not have the same amount of energy as his little brother, and was considerably more plump as a hobbit than his younger brother, who was taller and considerably more lean. Yet, the shouts of other very frustrated hobbits could be heard trying to catch up with the two brothers.

The adult hobbits that were now fast on their trail were gaining on the two children, who had mischievously stolen something of great value from a particular place in the town in which they lived in. Both of the children knew that the adults would only follow them so far before giving up, that was why evasion and distance was so important in getting away without punishment, at least for a time.

As the older hobbit prepared himself both mentally and physically to make his way across the hedge, the younger hobbit scurried on, carrying with him what the two trouble-makers had stolen and thus, the source of all the commotion in the small town. The older hobbit was inching closer and closer to the intimidating hedge. He pushed with all his strength off the ground and launched into the air, just enough to clear the hedge, but managed to cut himself passing the branches of the hedge. It wasn't a terrible cut, but it caused the older hobbit to fall to the ground.

The younger hobbit did not stop until he heard the sound of his brother's crash, making him stop and run back even more quickly to help his brother.

"What's the matter?" The younger asked.

"What does it look like?" The older hobbit barked. "I cut myself, all the way down the length of my poor leg!"

The younger hobbit scoffed. "Oh, Mosco! You're a baby! You'll be fine, get up!" He said. He looked through the tall obstacle to see if they were still being followed or not. There were a few adult hobbits moving around the other side of the hedge, but it seemed as if they did not know where the two young hobbits had vanished off to.

"Listen." The younger hobbit spoke softly. "We can get away, but we have to go carefully." He told his brother.

The older brother stood up and gave a soft sigh before nodding and gesturing for his little brother to lead the way from the hedge.

The two children quickly, but quietly moved away from the hedge, making sure not to be followed by an adult who might have guess their path, but fortunately for the two young hobbits, there was no such adult around. The two hobbits took refuge underneath one of the taller trees in the surrounding woods, just as they had planned before, and sat down to look over their hard-earned prize.

Mosco brushed himself off before sitting down on the dirt by the tree. "So then, we're both still alive." He said. "And what do we have as a reward, Marroc?" He asked.

Marroc laughed. "Well, only the best gingersnaps in all of Northfarthings!" He exclaimed, reaching into the sack and pulling out a cookie, before shoving it into his mouth. "Oh, yes, the best in Eriador! No one could make gingersnaps as good as these."

Mosco gave a sigh. "I can't believe we even made it." He admitted, reaching in and taking one and nibbling on it.

Marroc only laughed again. "Yeah, we should do this more often." He said, putting another gingersnap into his mouth.

Mosco gave his younger brother a look. "You know that's a bad idea, Marroc. We are not making this a habit." He said. "What if we get caught?"

Marroc shook his head. "Come now, it's all in good fun, and we won't get caught." He replied. "Besides, we're just children getting a snack." He said, smirking. "We're good at it too."

Mosco sighed, taking another gingersnap. He could feel something in the back of his mind telling him that all of this was not a good thing to do, but his little brother seemed fine with the entire ordeal.

Somehow, Marroc always seemed more confident when it came to decisions and other things that Mosco was not. Marroc was always the forward-thinking type while Mosco was the shy type when it came to events such as the one they both were in. It was some time before either of the two brothers bothered to speak again, mainly because it seemed as if there was nothing else to say.

The silence eventually got to Mosco and he found he had to say something, so he asked a question. "What now, Marroc?"

Marroc looked over at him and frowned. "Brother, you really should stop worrying, we've already got the cookies, and we weren't caught." He told Mosco.

"That's not what I meant." Mosco replied. "I mean, what now? Do you already have the next scheme underway, or are we done for now?"

Marroc sighed; he was right in saying that his older brother was worrying too much. He knew that it certainly could not have been that Mosco was expecting the next sort of trick, so he said nothing, and stared off, eating more cookies.

Marroc's silence annoyed Mosco, and he frowned. "Marroc?" He asked.

His younger brother looked over. "What?"

"Answer my question, if you will." Mosco requested, a bit harshly.

"I don't know." Marroc admitted. "What? Do you want to go on another runabout?"

"I'm not sure what I want, to be honest, Marroc." Mosco replied.

"Brother, calm down." Marroc replied, almost as if he was scolding his older brother. "There's nothing to worry about." He said, repeating himself from earlier.

Mosco nodded ran a hand through his dark red hair. "Look, you're right, I guess." He replied in a defeated tone before almost instantaneously looking up and around. Marroc gave a strange look before realizing what was going on to. The hobbits perked up their ears and listened very carefully. It was almost guaranteed that both of the hobbits had ceased breathing to maintain their cover, as neither of them knew what they were hearing until they looked at each other.

Someone was nearby.