It was April 12, 3018 (or 1418 by Shire reckoning) and despite the gathering darkness in Middle-Earth, all was quiet. This was only because the cause of the spreading evil had stopped making movements and was quietly reviewing and editing his plans. After all, Sauron was most definitely not an idiot as many believe.

While serving under Morgoth, Sauron had explored power more thoroughly than anyone, evil or good. He could see far more than anyone could ever dream of. He could see all the possible outcomes and in all the ones where he lost (he wasn't so arrogant so as to presume he would automatically win, unlike other evil-doers), the people, being they elves, dwarves, men, or hobbits, all banded against him. He had to prevent that from happening.

As he discarded idea after idea, something from his distant past niggled at his mind. He chose to ignore it until... He remembered. His great eye widened and he would have cackled if his form allowed it.

On his quest for knowledge and power, he discovered other worlds. Not parallel worlds, but worlds that were completely different... Worlds that spanned galaxies or a planet. Even a world that concentrated on those with 'magic' as it was called there.

Sauron ignored many of these worlds and focused on the world that contained the type of people that would be the most likely to split the people of Middle-Earth apart. He gauged his power and judged that he could pull 7 people from that world and still be able to direct his servants decently.

He allowed himself a mental chuckle before pulling seven people (plus an unintended dog) from that world violently and without any thought as to where they were from. He didn't notice that they knew each other. Another thing the all powerful being was unaware of was the fact that he had misjudged his power and used too much (though, to be fair, it would have been just the right amount if he had pulled the 7 carefully instead of violently). As a result, his power shaped and changed each of the seven. They weren't unrecognizable, but they now fit in with anyone from Middle-Earth. This was a mistake, something he did not intend to happen.

Unfortunately (depending on how you look at it), Sauron was as stupid as people thought: he never checked to see if his plan was working, nor did he actually look specifically, enjoying instead the big picture. And we all know that the little things tend to hide within the big picture. For better or for worse though is your opinion.

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Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not a happy man. After failing to fall asleep all night, the man had just finished making his coffee when something pulled him from his kitchen and into the middle of the plains. How he got there, he didn't know. But he did know that it caused a lot of pain, more pain than he had experienced (and we know he went through a lot).

He ran his hand over his head in frustration and froze. He had never, ever had the amount of hair he was currently feeling. He pulled a strand to his eyes, and glared at it, as it happened to be a combination of black and grey and long enough to see without pulling it out of his head.

Shaking his head and ignoring his hair whipping at his face, Gibbs stood up and felt undeniably awkward. Feeling for his gun, he did not find it. What he found was a sword in a scabbard. Groaning with irritation, he looked down. He was wearing clothes from long in the past.

"If this is a joke of DiNozzo's, I'll kill him," he muttered to himself, but his gut told him that it was the result of something else. With a sigh, he cast his view on the landscape, trying to find something recognizable.

At first, he saw nothing. Gibbs cursed under his breath and turned slowly on the spot, noticing the mountains to his right. He spotted the sun and figured that the mountains were to the north. He turned more to his right and noticed a huge white thing (that was kind of similar to a building if he was to be honest) nestled near the end of the mountain chain.

He squinted at it and then cursed loudly. "DiNozzo! If you were here right now, I'd headslap you." He'd recognize that structure anywhere. It was out of some movie the agent had made him watch. King of the Jewelry or something. He growled.

Yes, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a very pissed off man (going without his coffee only made it worse).

Being rational, Gibbs did not waste any thoughts trying to convince himself that it was not happening. After debating with his inner demons for a few minutes, he decided that his best bet would be to go to that white thing. Whatever it was.

But before he went... He gripped the sword in his hand and pulled it out. It was unfamiliar in his hand but he did not let that deter him. For the next few minutes, he forced himself through some maneuvers to acquaint himself with his new weapon. After all, he had to be able to defend himself in this place.

"DiNozzo, you better have a good explanation for this," Gibbs muttered to the air before, without a backward glance, walking towards the white thing that was miles away while flicking his hair out of his face repeatedly.

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Doctor Donald Mallard or Ducky for short was rather confused. He'd just finished drinking his tea when he was-there was no other word for it-ripped away and deposited in the middle of a huge hall with a rather hard floor. That combined with the pain that came with his dimension jumping made him very bemused.

His glasses were missing and his hair was most definitely longer than normal. He'd just finished mentally checking himself for injuries when he noticed that he was not alone.

"Oh dear," he stated while becoming rather pale. Of course, the sight of at least ten spears pointed at you would be rather unnerving.

Ducky stood up and brushed himself off cautiously and slowly while noticing the differences in attire, attitude, and hairstyle. "May I inquire as to where I am?" he asked carefully, trying to be as polite as possible. Who knew what would happen if he said just one thing that was too rude?

Everyone eyed him suspiciously and a few moved even closer to the poor man. Finally, a voice carried over the group and said: "This is Meduseld, the Golden Hall of Rohan."

As if it were a signal, all the men retracted their spears, but that did not stop them from eying the stranger clad in their clothes with suspicion. They continued to grip their weapons, ready to attack at any sign of aggression.

Ducky, however, did not notice. His mind had recognized the names and they were from a story he remembered from his younger years. With the spears still near him, he swallowed, realizing that he could not accuse them of being delusional, as they most certainly did not have any of the tell tale signs. With a sigh, he finally looked up and noticed the path to the throne that had opened up.

Feeling rather nervous, he walked up to the man sitting in it and managed an awkward bow/kneel combination, fully aware of the audience he had gained. "I'm sorry. My name is Ducky and I'm not from around here, you see. I'm quite as surprised as you are to be in this grand hall." He prayed that he had not made a faux pas.

The man looked down at him wearily and leaned forward to examine the stranger. "I am Théoden King. I wo-" Théoden was cut off by shouting.

"Éomer has been injured! Tell the king!" echoed in the hall. Immediately, the King got up and ran out of the hall, forgetting the stranger in his haste to his nephew's side. Ducky quietly followed him through the chaos.

"Where is the healer?" Théoden bellowed.

Some female answered, "He disappeared earlier today, Uncle."

Ducky stepped forward. "Perhaps I can be of some assistance? I know a little about healing."

Several hours later, he had quite possibly saved the King's nephew from dying despite his lack of knowledge of natural healing. It seemed that basic hygiene was not usually followed and that was mostly what the wound needed. He would need to learn the various herbs and plants later.

"Healer Ducky, I thank you for saving my cousin," a young man by the name of Théodred said suddenly, startling the poor doctor... err, healer. "It would have been a blow to all of us if he died. My father raised us together. He is like a brother to me and like a son to my father. Speaking of whom, he has told me that you will be staying on as our Healer in the absence of our previous one. I wish you the best of luck dealing with the chaos. Éowyn will teach you Rohirric after dinner each night," he added as an afterthought.

Ducky gaped after the man had left. "Oh dear." Life had suddenly gotten thrown upside down. The doctor was not one to shy from a challenge and it seemed that he just got one. At least he was no longer viewed with suspicion.

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Ziva David was not a happy hiker... or was it camper? Anyway, she was not used to things taking her unawares. And something did. In the early morning hours of the day, she was grabbed and tossed onto the soft forest floor amid blinding pain.

Grumbling in Hebrew irritably, Ziva stood up and noticed that she seemed a bit more balanced and that her hearing was sharper. She gazed around the forest and froze. Things were sharper, clearer than they should be. Her hair fell forward and she brushed it behind her ear.

In wonder (and a little fear), she traced the point of her ear. What had happened to give her pointed ears so suddenly and without her knowledge? She caught a glimpse of her sleeve. Frowning, she looked down and groaned. Whoever put her in that dress was going to be killed. Painfully.

She reached for one of her knives and found it, but it had changed. It was now a beautiful piece of craftsmanship that was a hundred times more deadly. All of her knives had changed into similar states. They all had a glow about them, as if some power had made them.

WelcometotheGoldenWood, ZivaDavid. Ziva gasped and stumbled backwards. The voice had just appeared in her head, just like that! She looked around suspiciously, but there was no one there.

An unfamiliar sounding man with an accent that was similar to British spoke from her left. "My lady, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel would like to speak with you. If you would please follow me," he added with a flourish before leading her down a path that would be difficult for her if she was still human. But she was not, and was able to keep up gracefully.

As they entered Caras Galadhorn, she gasped silently in wonder at the beauty. In no time, she was climbing one of the ancient trees to meet with the leaders of the wonderful forest.

Galadriel quickly explained Middle-Earth to Ziva, having felt her when she arrived. She had immediately realized that Ziva was not from Middle-Earth and felt that she needed to be looked after. Ziva did not take kindly to that.

"May I go find where I'll be staying then?" she asked coldly.

"First, you must eat dinner, then we need to find you a suitable name. It will not go over well with most that an elf does not have an elven name. We and possibly a few others, will teach you how to speak both Sindarin and Quenyan."

With a sigh, Ziva nodded and soon found herself enjoying a dinner with them. It seemed that they were far more easy-going without formalities to follow and her needing to be taken care of was simply a misunderstanding. In no time, they had chosen a name: Beleguial. It meant "mighty twilight." Ziva accepted it, as it fit with how Tony called her a ninja. She ignored the twinge in her heart as she wondered if he realized that she was gone yet.

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Jimmy Palmer was sleeping. He was sleeping so deeply that he didn't notice when he landed on a hard, rocky surface. Nor did he notice when a bunch of dwarves found him and decided to take him in, as he appeared to be a young dwarf with no home or family. Imagine his surprise when he woke up and discovered his full beard. Those dwarves had their work cut out for them.

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Abby, despite her preference for black, was no emo person. She was the most cheerful person on the planet, and not even the pain of changing dimensions changed her mood. In no time, she had discovered every single change made to her person.

But she was no longer human. She was an elf! Abby was super excited to meet other elves, but she missed her black clothes and her twin pig tails.

She bounded down the near-by path, only to run over some poor blond elf. She quickly picked herself up and helped the other up, babbling the whole time. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you and I don't even know where I am but I thought I was getting somewhere as there was a path and I didn't even stop to think! I'm so sorr-"

The elf held up his hand, looking a little amused. "It's alright. My name is Legolas and you are in Mirkwood. Would you mind explaining where you came from? You appeared out of nowhere."

Abby blinked. "Oh, my name is Abby and I'm from this place called Earth... wait, did you say Mirkwood?" As he answered, she told herself that she would not change the trilogy, she would NOT. She had read too many fanfictions on changing the past and she did not know what would happen if she changed even the littlest bit.

He nodded. "If I hadn't seen you appear, I wouldn't have believed you, but we need to come up with a story so that others don't think you're crazy for claiming to be from some place else. And you will need a new name... How about Laurëlhach? It means 'golden leaping flame.'"

Abby grinned and gave him one of her famous hugs. And so started a rather bizarre friendship between a forensic scientist and a prince.

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Timothy McGee was very close to panicky when, while he was walking Jethro, a pain appeared in all parts of his body unlike anything he felt and rendered him paralyzed as he suddenly disappeared from the street.

After a few moments, he became aware of Jethro whining and nudging him. With a sigh of relief that the pain was gone, he opened his eyes and gasped. He was in the middle of what looked to be a palace. He absentmindedly stroked Jethro's head as he pushed himself up with his other arm.

He felt much more balanced that before. With a frown, he reached to scratch his neck only to discover hair. Lots of hair, down to the middle of his back. He gulped and when some fell in front of his face he pushed it back only to discover that his ears were now pointed. Great. NowTonyreallywillhaveareasontocallmeElfLord. he grumbled to himself as he looked down at Jethro.

He blinked and did a double take. The dog now looked more like a wolf, but at least he was relatively unchanged, if slightly uncomfortable. His collar and leash were nowhere in sight.

Feeling uncomfortable without his gun, Tim stepped forward nervously. His wandering hand, automatically reaching for his gun, found a sword instead. He gulped.

"Halt!" two identical commanding voices rang out. Tim froze.

"Erm... Hello?" he called back, wondering how the hell his voice had become so... lilting.

Two identical elves with fierce stern looks materialized (or so it seemed) in front of him. "How did you get here? What is your business with Imladris?"

Jethro started growling. Tim rested his hand on the dog's-er- wolf's head. Luckily his pet took the hint.

"I have no clue how I got here, and as far as I know I have no business with... Imladris, did you say?" As he finished saying that, he felt slightly horrified. How in the world had he ended up in Middle-Earth? And if he was in Imladris... then... that would mean... that he was standing in front of Elrohir and Elladan, the twin sons of Elrond. He gulped, and grew more nervous as he noticed them staring at him.

"Come, Adar will know what to do," the one on the left stated as they turned and started racing through the woods. Tim cursed mentally and took off after them, marveling at how easy it was to keep up and avoid tripping.

They guided him through the elaborate building and to their father's office. The two elves walked into the room and quietly talked to him before ushering Tim in and leaving him fidgeting nervously.

Jethro growled, causing Tim to look down and sigh.

"Jethro..." he murmured, resting his hand on the wolf's head.

Elrond asked his name gently and then started something that was a bit of an interrogation, but after having Gibbs as his boss, wasn't near as nerve-wracking as it could be.

After briefly telling Elrond that no, he didn't know how to speak any Elvish, and yes, he was from a different world, the elf-lord sat in silence, contemplating the young elf in front of him.

"Well, Tim, I'll have my sons train you up. We'll just say that you lost your parents at a young age while traveling and you've been on you're own since. You don't remember any elvish. But we do have to give you an elvish name."

Tim finally sat down, idly patting his wolf's head. "What do you suggest?" he asked.

Elrond smiled for the first time since he had arrived. "Draugheru, meaning wolf lord."

Ti-I mean, Draugheru groaned quietly, glancing down at Jethro. Tony was definitely never going to let him live this down.

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Speaking of Tony... well... he was probably having the worst day of them all. All he was doing was relaxing on his couch, watching movies (since it was his day off, nevermind he was up early). Then, without warning everything twisted and he experienced pain beyond imaging as colors contorted around him.

As suddenly as it started, it stopped. He landed on soft grass and groaned.

"What the hell just happened?" he mumbled into the dirt.

He pulled his hands underneath him and pushed himself up. He frowned. The ground was a lot closer than he remembered.

He started brushing off his arms when he froze. He was wearing old timey clothes and... were his feet furry?

Tony sat down and checked. Yes, they were. There was hair growing all over them and no shoes, socks or sandals in sight. He groaned loudly before realizing he seemed to have more hair than he remembered. He ruffled his hair. It was curly.

"Oh shit, I'm a hobbit."

…

So there you have it, the beginning of a story I've been toying with for ages. Now, I realize some parts are shorter than others (particularly Jimmy's) but that doesn't mean they won't be a big part of the story. Trust me. I just don't know how to write Jimmy that well. Longest prologue ever. Thanks for reading.