Title: Twelve word prompt perspectives

Summary: Each person in the fellowship has their own story to tell. For this story... drabble... thing, I generated 12 random words per character and did a short one-shot on each word, using the one-shots to tell the whole story of Lord of The Rings from start to finish.

Rating: K+, just to be safe.

Characters: The entire fellowship, plus most of the other characters they meet.

Author: Idhren

Disclaimer: If I owned Lord of The Rings I would write stories like this full-time, not just for fun and procrastination. I don't though, enough said.

Reviews: Please read and review, constructive criticism welcome.

Author's notes: I try to stick to book verse here, but may mess stuff up and include movie stuff. It's all one story to me anyways. Each character has their own chapter, but I can't say what order they will be in, I generate the words first, and then see who they suit.

Ch. 1 Pippin's POV

Autopilot

Would we never stop? We have been walking for most of the day, with but one short stop! We even ATE on the road. I'm pretty sure that's not healthy. Why is Strider making us go so fast? We have run out of things to say, and now walk in silence. I can feel myself going on autopilot, my body placing one foot in front of another while I space out. I've never done so much walking in one day in my life.

Mighty

I huddle up to the other hobbits, sword extended. I don't even know how to hold this thing, let alone use it against creatures like the nazgul! I'm just a hobbit! I haven't trained in fighting, I've never fought before! I'm not ready to die, not really. But I will to protect Frodo, even if I have to chance against such a mighty foe. Our only hope now that they draw even closer is in Strider, and he went scouting. The nazgul pushes me aside without a second thought, and I can do nothing to stop it. Great. These thing have an aura of fear, and I can't even find it in me to get up. What now?

Evidence

Frodo's been hurt, and we are now going even harder, faster, and longer than before. I think my feet are ready to fall off. Frodo gets to ride Bill, while we carry more baggage, but he looks so terrible there is no envy in my mind at all. I don't understand, he only got hit in the shoulder, why is this happening? Strider won't say. He did say that we will come to a bridge soon, and it might be held by the enemy, and we could be ambushed. I know I should be scared but I honestly think I'm going numb to all this. It's just too foreign, too completely outside of anything I've ever experienced.

Now we have reached the bridge. But we can't cross yet, or we shouldn't though we may have to if things yet worse with Frodo. First we need some evidence that we are not walking into a trap. Strider sees something on the bridge, a blue gemstone. A beryl he says, a sign of a friend. Now we cross and continue our mad pace to Rivendell.

Poisonous

We have now met a mighty elf-lord. And finally I get the answers I've been asking for. I'm not sure if I would rather not have known. From what I can understand, the blade that pierced Frodo was poisoned. That's why he is so sick and hurt even though it was only his shoulder. The worst part is though, what this poisonish-thing is doing to Frodo. Slowly, but not slowly enough, it is turning Frodo into a wraith. I don't want to think it, but I can't help myself, and I wonder, what will happen if… well if worst comes to worst... will Strider… take it? If Frodo couldn't keep it? Would we? And if worst comes to worst, and Frodo turns into a wraith, and is dangerous and all… will Strider end it, and take a sword to Frodo's throat?

Ideal

Rivendell is beautiful, peaceful yet joyful, and an ideal place for Frodo to recover. It seems like it's also an ideal meeting point and conversion point for all sorts of different people. I keep meeting all sorts of folk in the hallways and the in the Hall of Fire.

Hide

I know we shouldn't, but I really need to know what is happening in that council. I've always been far too curious for my own good. Merry agreed to go secretly too, but his reason is more to do with knowing how to protect Frodo and all. Though I think he's curious as well. We found a perfect spot to hide, right behind the pillars. Now we just need to wait for the council to start.

Bridge

To the bridge of Khazad Dum! I follow them blindly. Apparently we are going to this bridge I've never heard of, that has the word doom in it. It doesn't mean much that I have lived my life ignorant of it's existence. I am a more educated hobbit than most, and I know my letters and all, but it is turning out that I don't know very much at all. I touch things I shouldn't, and am always getting into trouble. I started this, by pushing the skeleton in.

We reach the bridge. And I see something else I've never heard of, never dreamed of. A Balrog. And suddenly, Gandalf looks tiny. He's always big to me, scolding me for stuff, saying Fool of a Took. It never occurred to me that anything had the power to defeat him. Well I was wrong. And his death was my fault, because my curiosity got the better of me, like it always does. If I hadn't been here… if I hadn't been here Gandalf would still be alive. I don't think I've ever hated myself more than I do right now.

Habitual

Merry notices my somber mood. He always notices when something is up, and as always he pries it out of me and talks some sense into me. He always has, and always does. It's habitual.

One thing I've learnt from Gandalf's death is this though; even the most normal, and constant of thing are not always permanent. Things you would never have thought could change, do. Maybe I'll be the one looking after Merry one day, but I hope not. He's the strong one. And I don't want anything to happen to him. But if it did, well, I'd be there. I'll always be there.

I hope.

Delight

Treebeard was taking us to see the White Wizard! Saruman! He had said he was on no one's "side" but clearly he was either lying, or plain oblivious. Either way, Merry and I needed to find a way out of this situation as soon as possible. Sadly Treebeard still had us in his iron grip and so no amount of struggling helped. Soon I could see a white glow from the trees, as a figure walked into the open. I braced myself for something terrible, who know what Saruman would do to us! But as we struggled even more frantically to free ourselves, while knowing that the inevitable confrontation was almost at hand, the figure was made clear.

"Gandalf?" I cried. Could it really be? How? He died, I saw it, he must have!

"I suppose so." He said, seeming rather confused. Maybe he had forgotten, for some reason? But I knew it was indeed Gandalf, and was beyond pleased. I was delighted. Gandalf was back!

Orthodox

Isengard was destroyed, and now a group of lord and such, with Gandalf, of course, had arrived. We waded through water to talk with Saruman, but things did not go according to plan. Well, their plan. I was left out of any plan-making. When Saruman died I noticed something roll into the water. None of the others seemed to notice it, and so I took it upon myself to see what it was, and find it. No, it was not simple curiosity that made me seek it, though that was there too. I found it, a round orb that I had seen earlier in his hands, and I knew it was something important. Yet when Gandalf saw it in my hands he immediately grabbed it, like I was a child holding something I was forbidden to touch. No thanks did I receive, nor praise, nor was I even allowed to see it, learn about it, or hold it for a few more seconds! Was it really that unorthodox for a mere halfling to partake in matters of some importance, or does he simply not trust me?

Bold

If you asked some other hobbits if they thought I was brave, or bold, they might say yes. But if you asked men, elves, or dwarves, about hobbits, bold or brave would probably not be one of the words. Among ourselves we are not shy, but we do not do great deeds and such. Now I am in Gondor, alone, without even Merry to offer help. Gandalf is who knows where, probably in the thick of this battle, and now I must try and save a life. Alone. I had been bold like this before, when I lit the beacon. But Gandalf told me to. I could do nothing alone, but maybe I could get someone else to save him. I told the guards not to hurry, to do anything to slow this down, and told my friend Beregond. Then I went to get Gandalf. I didn't hesitate, I threw myself through the battle to find him. I was brave, I was bold.

Base

There has been so much death. So much pain. All this war, and at the root of it, the base of all our troubles, all the servants of evil everything, was the ring. The little trinket that was entrusted to Frodo. It's gone now, and things are… well things aren't any more normal than before. I'm… a squire of Gondor. And Merry, who until recently was in the houses of healing, a squire of Rohan. Frodo and Sam dwell there still. Nothing will ever be able to fix this. This death, this destruction. I'm not the only person who's world has been turned upside down. We will forever mourn those we have lost, on every step of this journey. I mourn too, the parts of myself I lost on the strange path I have followed, that I have made. I am not the same person I used to be. Better in some ways, others… I'm not sure. I have never forgotten the words he said, though he is long gone, and now I see the utter truth in them. It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. And so much pain, and so much loss. So much.

Next chapter: Frodo. Please leave a review, even if it's short.