A/N: This is the first part of an eight part series, the main part of which will only be four books long. The other four are an in-between companion series that kind of fills in a gap in the timeline. This is also a rewrite of a previous story that I had been working on. I decided I did not like the way the story was progressing and began the reconstruction process. Elements in the prologue may be recognizable from various places - movies, books, etc. - but I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and read on before you really know what is going on.

On a final note, this story is in fact a crossover of many, many things. The only two I will give you to start with are: Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. At the beginning of the next book I will most likely expand on this.

Something to remember about this story: This is a very special story to me. I'm not telling you not to say anything bad about it. I'm telling you that you can say whatever you want about this story. It's not going to change it at all. I will write it the way I want. I have a very specific plot in mind, and it's not going to change just because someone doesn't like it. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it. But I implore you to at least give it a chance.

Yeah, that's pretty much it. Please review, I need to know how I'm doing.

Prologue

"You have unleashed a power far greater than you. You shall live to regret it."

"I warned you not to touch her."

"You are hereby expelled from the Jedi Order."

"I want these creatures out of Gondor. I don't care if you have to kill every one of them, I want them out."

"Go. Go back to New York. I won't let you stay here if it means I might lose you again."

"You killed him. You killed Lar Gand, and now I'm going to kill you!"

"Please! Please, it was an accident. You know that wasn't me..."

"I don't need a sidekick, all right? I've lost two already, and that's two too many for me."

"You all right, kid?"

"Take it easy! It's just a training exercise."

"Everybody down!"

"I can't believe it. I trusted you!"

"I'm sorry, Rachel. But I can't do this on my own. I need help."

"You'd better be thinking of where your allegiances lie."

"The Great Council finds you both guilty of high treason against his majesty, the King of Zolan, and his people."

"I want my son back, Kenobi! And I don't care who I go through to get him!"

"You wanna sit this one out?"

"Sorry is just not gonna cut it this time, Bruce..."

"Don't leave me. I don't want to die alone..."

"Please, you have to do something!"

"...Stop me. You have to stop me. I can't stop myself! Just... just kill me. Right now. Please. Jean... Kill me..."

"That's it. It's over."

Odd. It's been so long I'd nearly forgotten. But... No, that's not right. Nothing is right anymore.

Well, the war is over, at any rate. How long has it been? Five years? Ten? Twenty? I can't remember...

But I do remember everything that happened, every minute little detail. The smell of smoke on Bruce's clothes when he got into a fight with Scott. The smell of blood when he got into a fight with Marie (She broke his jaw that day). The tears on Vic's face when Rachel died (the second time). The color of the sky the day of my wedding. The song we sang at my sister's funeral. The way Kara looked at me when I got between her and Jim. The warm glow of a fire that night we spent in the cave. The dullness that seemed to linger in Tim's eyes after the sonic explosion took out Command Central. The feel of a kiss. The sound of fluttering wings and galloping hooves. A city by night. A secret meeting in a moonlit forest clearing. The thrill of a battle. The agony of defeat. The bitterness of death. The height of hope. The depths of despair.

And it all started when I was fifteen. Young, ambitious... Normal. I wasn't anyone special. And then...

...And then my life got turned upside-down.

My name is Forca. I was the Commander of the Alliance forces in the War of the Dimensions. And this is my story.

Name Note: Lustë and Forca are the same person.

Chapter 1: Lustë

The sun rose bright and beautiful over Ephel Duath and touched the lands below with its shining rays, setting the Anduin ablaze in brilliant red and gold flame. A single lone figure sat at the foot of Emyn Arnen and watched as Arien once again began her long journey across the sky to the West, bearing with her Anar the Fire-Golden of Laurelin, the last fruit of the great Tree of Valinor.

Lustë leaned forward, pushing herself away from the rocky outcropping, and watched listlessly as the day began. Her horse, Roccomorë, grazed farther up the hill, within earshot of his mistress should she call for him. But she did not just yet. Instead she sat, chin in hand, watching the great citadel of Minas Tirith below begin to bustle with morning activity. Having no one better to talk to, she addressed the creature behind her.

"Another day, Roc," she said. The great beast continued with his meal, taking no heed of her words. "Shall we see if the night has changed his majesty's mind? Or do we forget about Elessar and continue on our way?" An indifferent snort was all the response she received. Her gaze traveled up the great tower to its summit, sparkling in the morning light. "After all," she continued thoughtfully, "he has refused to listen to my warnings for a full week now. It is time I got back to my own world. Or, rather, the other world. 'Tisn't quite mine. Either way, they are all going to be worrying about me. Besides, if Gondor does fall, it will be his own fault for not listening to me. Right?"

Still, Roccomorë would give no sign that he heard a single word and continued grazing. Lustë continued to gaze at the tower as if she could not take her eyes off of it. "Rowena told me that I had to at least try, and I did try," she whispered to herself.

"But not hard enough." The voice behind her broke her trance. She turned to see a woman standing with Roccomorë, stroking him gently and also gazing at the tower. "You must speak with Elessar one last time, Sandra. The darkness must be stopped."

"Rowena!" Lustë rose to her feet and approached the woman, looking for all the world like she had failed some great, important task. "I have tried to warn King Elessar, but he will not listen."

"You have spoken to Galadriel of Lorién? And Éomer of Rohan?"

"Yes. Both said I would have any help they could provide."

"Good. Still, Gondor is closest to danger, and therefore must be prepared. You must convince Elessar of this."

"But I have done everything within my power, and still he does not listen."

"Then you must try something outside your power. For two years I have been training you, Sandra, and still you cannot think outside the box?" Rowena paused a moment and produced from her pocket a small sapphire set in a gold ring. "I also have spoken with Galadriel, and she bade me give you this."

Lustë took the ring and examined it curiously. "What is it for?" she asked.

"It is for many things. But mainly, it is for you to traverse the Dimensions at will. This is how you shall build your army."

"What does this have to do with convincing Elessar that I'm telling the truth?"

Rowena turned to Roccomorë and gave him a final pat on the neck. "You're a smart girl, Sandra," she said. "You'll think of something." With that she disappeared.

"You know what, Roc? Sometimes I think I might actually be losing it…" Roccomorë still gave no acknowledgement of his mistress. "Well, I suppose I might as well give it one last try. After all, the worst he can do is say no again." She began the long descent toward the thriving citadel below. Roccomorë, reluctant to let her out of his sight, followed at a distance behind her. Both could sense the impending doom that hung in the air over their heads, and the feeling spurred them on faster.

A/N: More will be coming as soon as I finish the next chapter. Remember to review!