Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story are based off of those created by Professor Tolkien and owned by his heirs. Any song lyrics belong to the people credited beneath them. Kystrel is my creation.

Author's Notes: One, I haven't gotten through the books yet, much as I've tried, and so I'm working from movie canon, for one. Two, this is definately AU, and I'm having fun, because I finally got an LotR fic to the point I feel safe letting other people read it. Other than that, just read.

Summary: Kystrel is a thief, a good thief. She has a reputation for being one of the best, pretty much uncatchable. But when work gets thin, she takes a job she might have passed over before, an offer too good to be true. Get a set of nine rings for her employer, and anything else she sees in the house she's supposed to get them from is hers. On top of double her normal fee. Only problem is, the house in question belongs to an elf, and he's not at all inclined to let anyone get their hands on these rings ever again.

Rating: PG-13 (subject to change, depends on how things go)

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

All of this dust
All of this past
All of this over and gone
And never coming back
All of this forgotten
-Sarah Bettens "All Of This Past"

The tower of Barad-dur fell with a resounding crash, and the wraiths that still survived watched, feeling their souls streching, thinning. Their power was broken, and they shrieked as they faded to dust, the nine rings of men tumbling to lay in the dust, trampled into the ground by the passage of many feet over the next few days, buried by dust over the years, forgotten by most, as were the other rings.

But some memories are not so easily forgotten, and a small group set out to gather together the rings that had been the downfall of many, and place them in the care of someone who could be trusted to both keep them safe from mortal man, and be not tempted by the power they would represent. They searched, and they gathered together the rings that once had adorned the fingers of the wraiths, the rings of the elves, the rings of dwarves.

They were locked away in a small chest, and given into the care of those who had found them, and remained undisturbed as the world changed around them, the magic fading till it was imperceptible to all but those few. It was only then that the legends began of a treasure trove hidden in a forest where all who travelled never returned, in a castle guarded by fierce beasts of the wood, a treasure that brought those who could claim it great power. A legend fueled by the strangeness of the woods that surrounded a house built in the trees themselves.

It was that legend that caught the attention of a group of men who were not happy with the power they'd already ammassed, the wealth they would never have the time to spend. They set out to capture that power for themselves, yet they saw no point in risking themselves. Time and time again they sent other to do their work, and failed. Lifetime upon lifetime these nine found each other again, and sent forth more to get the treasure, never aware of the past lives they'd led.

And now, they once more sent a thief to do their dirty work. But now they remembered, and they watched, waiting for her to succeed - but not in what she thought she'd been hired for.