Disclaimer:  My inspiration for the temptation scenes came primarily from "Wise, Fearless, and Fair" by Philosopher at Large and from the brilliantly insightful stories of marylinusca and Skybright Daye; marylinusca also owns Grandfather White Wolf and the characterizations of Paul "Angry Rabbit" Carter and Marcus Simms.

More notes at the end of the chapter!


"Here's some aspirin," Carter said, handing the pill bottle to Aragorn.  When Aragorn looked at the tablets and frowned, puzzled, Carter explained, "It's similar to willow bark extract… pain reliever, fever reducer, that kind of thing.  It's a little stronger and a little easier on the stomach than willow bark.  It's all we could find, though."

Comprehension dawned on Aragorn's face.  "Ah.  Thank you, Carter; I think this will do nicely.  Could you bring me some hot water?"

Now it was Carter's turn to look confused.  "Why?"

"Well, our people are unused to taking medicines in tablet form.  It would be easier for Frodo if I could dissolve one of these tablets and let him drink the solution."

"Oh.  Gotcha.  I'll see what I can find."

"Thank you."

Carter grinned shyly and left the room.

Frodo adjusted the cold compress on his head.  "I'm not sure which makes my head spin more, the injury or all the changes in this world!"

Aragorn and Gandalf chuckled quietly.

Aragorn looked at the pill bottle again and sighed.  "Their system of writing is very different from ours.  I wish I could read it to know exactly how much to give you, Frodo."

"That might not be much help," Gandalf observed.  "Their systems of measurement are also likely to be very different, and making a potion of the purified substance is not the same as making a willow bark infusion.  Still, I think your guess of one tablet is wise."

Aragorn smiled.  "My thanks, Gandalf."

Just then, Carter returned with a steaming mug and a spoon.  "Here's your hot water."

"Again I thank you, Carter."  Aragorn took the mug and set it on Hogan's desk, then opened the aspirin bottle and took out a tablet.  "Now, ought I to crush this, or will it dissolve easily enough whole?"

Carter shrugged.  "I dunno; I've never tried to give anyone aspirin this way.  I guess it'll work fine if you put it in whole, but if it doesn't dissolve very fast, you can try crushing it with the spoon."

Aragorn nodded and dropped the tablet into the mug.  Carter handed him the spoon, and Aragorn stirred the water for a moment to get the aspirin to dissolve.  After a moment, he used the back of the spoon to crush the tablet against the side of the mug, and after stirring a short while longer, he looked satisfied.

Frodo propped himself up on one elbow as Aragorn crossed to the bed.  "Will it be bitter?" he asked.

"Probably a little, yeah," Carter nodded, slightly wrinkling his nose in sympathy.

"But likely no worse than willow bark, and it will help the headache," Aragorn added, handing Frodo the mug.  "Be careful; it is still quite hot."

Frodo gingerly drank the aspirin solution, grimacing a little at the taste.  Then he handed the mug back to Aragorn, who returned it and the spoon to Carter.

"It should kick in in about an hour," Carter informed Frodo.

Frodo smiled back.  "Thank you, Carter.  I am grateful."

Aragorn and Gandalf also thanked Carter, and sensing that the young man was inclined to hover, Aragorn gently herded him out of the room, closed the door, and turned out the light.

Frodo felt his eyelids drooping.  "Is it safe to sleep, Strider?"

Aragorn smiled as he crossed the room again to close the shutters.  "Yes, Frodo, it's safe.  We will wake you in a few hours to make sure you are all right, but you need not fight sleep now.  Rest well."

Frodo simply smiled and allowed himself to doze off.

Once Gandalf and Aragorn were sure Frodo was deeply asleep, they looked at each other and sighed.

"The Ring has awoken," Aragorn began in a low voice, speaking Sindarin so that if anyone happened to overhear, the conversation would not be easily understood.

"Ah, you did notice," Gandalf replied in kind.  "Once I knew we were no longer in Arda, I had hoped it would not endanger us here."

"As did we all, I think.  But if it is as treacherous here as it was there…."

"I know.  We endanger our hosts by our presence.  The Ring could easily draw the attention of these Gestapo men from whom we hid earlier; apparently it nearly caused them to find the entrance to the tunnel earlier."

"It might also corrupt Hogan or his men.  I do not think any of us have escaped being tempted by the Ring, and I doubt that they will escape facing this temptation, either."

The Dúnadan and the Istar exchanged a look that spoke volumes.

"What should we do, then?" Aragorn continued.  "I do not see any way for us to return to Middle-earth, and we know of no other safe haven here."

"There is also their mission to consider.  The longer we are here, the more I believe we are meant to help them with it.  Therefore, we cannot simply leave."  Gandalf paused and sighed.  "I can see no other choice.  We must tell them of their danger and see what happens."

"Dare we trust them that far?" Aragorn asked skeptically, remembering Boromir's odd reaction.

Gandalf shrugged eloquently.  "I believe they are good men.  Remember, too, that they tested us before telling us their great secret for fear that we would betray them.  I think we are safe in reciprocating that trust."

Aragorn sighed and nodded.  "Very well.  How soon should we do this?"

"As soon as possible.  I believe Hogan and Kinch are downstairs doing something with the radio; when they return, we should tell them all at once."

"Agreed."

Suddenly both stiffened, sensing something wrong.  A moment later, Legolas silently slipped into the room, knife drawn.

"Someone is prowling around outside," the elf reported quietly.  "Newkirk has gone to see what is happening."

Sam, whom LeBeau had convinced to leave his master's side long enough to get some lunch, eased through the door shortly after Legolas' arrival.  Without saying a word to anyone, he made his way around the bed and sat down on the footlocker.

Tension mounted as footsteps rounded the corner of the building and approached the office window.  Aragorn and Gandalf drew their swords partway.  Frodo began to act as though his dreams were troubled, and Sam moved swiftly to the bed to hush him and still his thrashings.  Frodo's hand began to move toward the Ring, and Sam caught it and held it tightly.

"Oy!" Newkirk suddenly shouted.

The ominous footsteps stopped.

"'Allo, 'allo, 'allo!  Sgt. Richter!  Lookin' for something, mate?"

"That is no concern of yours," a German-sounding voice replied icily.

"I'd be glad to 'elp you look for i' if you'd like," Newkirk continued.

After a tense pause, the ominous footsteps began moving away and faded into the distance.

Newkirk coughed loudly under the window and walked back around the corner of the building.  Everyone in Hogan's quarters relaxed, and Frodo's breathing became regular and deep once more.

Sam turned a questioning gaze on Aragorn.

"It is safe now," Aragorn nodded in answer.  "Go back and finish your meal."

Sam smiled gratefully.  "Thank you, Strider."

As Sam quietly left the room, Legolas sheathed his knife and sighed.  "That was close," he whispered in Sindarin.

Aragorn nodded.  "Yes.  You are right, Gandalf; we must tell them.  After this incident, they deserve to know, and if I judge Hogan rightly, he will demand to know why this Richter was drawn hither."

Legolas looked from Man to Maia and back.  "The Ring?"

"We fear so," Gandalf replied.

Legolas sighed and looked at the small figure on the bed.  "I will inform Hogan and his men that you wish to speak to them as soon as he returns from the radio room."

Aragorn placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze.  "Le hannon, Legolas."

Legolas smiled and left as quietly as he came.


Hogan had known he was in trouble when Gen. Jacobs answered his call on the radio.  He was also very glad he'd taken a moment to work out precisely what he needed from London, and especially from Professor Tolkien, before having Kinch call.  At the moment, though, he was beginning to get a headache from trying to figure out how to phrase his apology.

"We are fighting a war here, you know," Jacobs finished his brief tirade.

Hogan sighed.  "Look, Goldilocks, I'm sorry my messages haven't made sense.  It's a madhouse over here, and you truly would not believe what's going on."

A grumble in the background sounded like Gen. Sullivan muttering something.  Hogan's heart sank even further.

"Did you contact Tiger?"

"Yes."

"Do you still need that code?"

"Yes.  In Elvish, if possible."  Hogan then rattled off a list of terms that needed to be included.  "And any other phrases he thinks might be helpful," he concluded.

"Gotcha.  How soon do you need this?"

"As soon as possible… by tonight, if you can."

"Roger, Papa Bear.  Anything else?"

"No.  That's it."

"Roger.  Over and out."

Kinch shut off the radio, and Hogan blew the air out of his cheeks.

"Can't exactly blame them for being upset," Kinch commented.

Hogan rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.  "Yeah, I know.  I would be in their shoes.  Wouldn't believe our story, either, if I hadn't been here all this time.  And how was I to know Conlon would call in Gen. Jacobs and Gen. Sullivan?"


In London, David set down the microphone with a sigh.  "Well, at least he's got his act together," he remarked.

"Crazy kid," Jack grumbled.  "If he thinks he's got a mess on his hands, he hasn't seen this place lately."

"Never a dull moment, that's for sure."

The stenographer handed David the list of words Hogan had dictated to them.  "At least he's finally doing something, though," David continued with a grimace, looking first at the list and then at the clouds building outside.

"Which is more than we can say on our end," Jack agreed.

David smiled wryly at that.  "Well, if Papa Bear's shenanigans don't last forever, this weather won't, either.  C'mon.  If he really does need this soon, we'd better get the Professor working on it right away."

"Elvish, huh?"  Jack shook his head as they left the communications room.  "Be interesting to see how easy it'll be."


LeBeau came down the ladder into the radio room.  "Something strange is going on, colonel," he reported.

Hogan frowned.  "Why?  What happened?"

"Newkirk just caught Sgt. Richter snooping around the building.  He was just about to look into your office."

Now Kinch frowned.  "Richter's not supposed to be in this part of the camp.  He's guarding the arsenal."

"Did he give Newkirk any reason for his being here?" Hogan asked.

LeBeau shook his head.  "He just gave him that stupid Boche glare and left.  He said it was none of his business."

"Where'd he go?"

"I'm not sure.  Newkirk just came in, and he's watching the door."

Hogan sighed.  "Okay.  Let's go."

The three men filed back up the ladder into the hut.  Legolas was waiting on Carter's bunk, and he stood as soon as Hogan climbed out of the tunnel entrance.

"Mae govannen, hir-nin," Legolas said with a bow.  "Aragorn and Gandalf would like to speak with you and your men about a matter of great urgency."

Hogan's eyebrows went up at this formal greeting, but before he could respond, Schultz started shouting for roll call.  "Yeah, sure, Legolas," Hogan replied distractedly, grabbing his hat from the table as the men began hurrying outside.  "We'll meet in the tunnel after roll call.  And be sure to stay away from the windows!" he added as he dashed out the door.

With an inscrutable expression, Legolas sat back down on the bunk.

"What's roll call like, Boromir?" Pippin asked.

As Boromir tried to describe his earlier experience to the three hobbits and dwarf seated around him, Aragorn opened the door to Hogan's quarters.  Ducking past the windows, Legolas crossed the room to speak to him.

"After roll call?" Aragorn asked in a low voice.

Legolas nodded and replied in Sindarin.  "In the tunnel, he said.  I suppose that offers the most protection from enemy ears."

Aragorn nodded also.  "We would like you to join us.  Sam will want to stay with Frodo, of course, and it would be wise for one of the other men to stand guard as well."

"The man called Thomas has an honest face," Legolas replied.  "I believe he can be trusted.  Perhaps Lady Tiger ought also to remain with them."

Aragorn glanced over to the corner where Tiger sat, trying to hide.  "That will be her choice.  She would be less easily found that way, but with the Ring nearby, her danger might be increased.  And she might prefer to stay with the other Edain; she seems to find us unnerving."

Legolas chuckled.

"Merry and Pippin ought to remain here in the main room, but with Boromir and Gimli present to watch them so that they do not become careless.  They will need a way of escape should Hochstetter return, though."

Legolas looked up and studied the rafters for a moment.  "They might be able to hide above," he suggested.  "Or, since four men will be downstairs with us, they could lie on a few of the beds and hide under the blankets.  These men appear to be experts at this kind of deception, though, so I do not fear; Olsen will be able to hide them quickly, I think."

Aragorn nodded.  "Good.  I concur."

Legolas listened for a moment.  "They have almost finished.  Schultz is giving his report."  After another pause, he reported, "Hogan is reporting the incident with Richter to… Klink, I believe.  Richter was supposed to be in a different part of the camp."

"Thank the Valar," Aragorn smiled.  "That ought to keep that enemy away for a time."

Legolas returned the smile, then listened a moment longer.  "They return," he said at last.

Aragorn turned back into the room, and Gandalf came to the door immediately.  At the same time, Legolas beckoned to Sam, who drained his cup and left the table.

"We need to meet with Col. Hogan and his men," Aragorn explained quietly when Sam joined them.  "We shall be down in the tunnel if you need us, but we will ask one of the other men to stay with you and Frodo in case anything more should happen."

Sam nodded solemnly.  "Don't you worry about Mr. Frodo, sir.  We'll take good care of him."

His elders smiled at that, and Gandalf stood aside to let Sam past.  Then he and Aragorn moved into the main room and shut the door behind them just as Hogan and his men began to return.  Aragorn beckoned to Thomas as the prisoner came in.

"Thomas, would you mind staying with Sam and Frodo while we meet with Col. Hogan?" Aragorn asked.  "They may need protection if the Gestapo returns."

"Sure!  No problem," Thomas smiled.  "Glad to help out."

"We thank you," Gandalf replied.

Thomas had just gone into Hogan's office when Hogan returned.  Aragorn whispered instructions to the members of the Fellowship still seated at the table, while Hogan gave Olsen and Marcus Simms the task of holding down the fort.  Sparing a smile for Tiger, Hogan then moved around the table to open the tunnel entrance, and the others who were meeting with him followed him down the ladder.

"You have taken us into your confidence," Gandalf began once they were all assembled downstairs and Olsen had closed the tunnel behind them.  "Now we must take you into ours.  Tell me, how much do you know of our mission?"

Carter frowned.  "You've got another mission?"

Aragorn nodded.  "I believe we may have mentioned to you that we are on a quest—or were before we suddenly found ourselves here.  Have you learned anything more about it?"

Hogan and Kinch exchanged a glance.  "Not much," Kinch replied.  "The information we got wasn't completely accurate… referred to you as Trotter, not Strider."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at that.  Legolas snickered.

"All we know for sure is that it has something to do with a magic ring," Hogan continued.  "Possibly the one Bilbo picked up on his adventure."

Gandalf sighed deeply.  "In that your information is accurate.  It is Bilbo's ring that is involved, although it was not his in the beginning.  Frodo is taking it into Mordor to cast it into the fires of Mount Doom so that it will be destroyed."

"What?  Why?" the Heroes chorused.

"Many years ago, the Dark Lord Sauron donned a fair disguise and gained the confidence of the Elven-smiths of Eregion," Aragorn explained.  "Together they worked to create the Rings of Power.  A number of these rings were given to the rulers of the three races—Elves, Men, and Dwarves—and conferred upon the bearers the power to rule, along with other powers corresponding to the disposition of each race.  The Elven-rings Celebrimbor forged alone, and they were not tainted by Sauron's influence; but in secret, Sauron forged the mightiest of the rings, with the power to rule all the others and also to rule all of Middle-earth."

Gandalf quietly recited:

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, one Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the shadows lie.

"Sauron lost the One Ring in battle," Aragorn continued, ignoring the involuntary shudders of his audience.  "My ancestor Isildur cut it from his hand and thus vanquished him.  But though he was urged to destroy it at once and secure Sauron's defeat, Isildur refused and claimed the Ring as wergild for his father Elendil, whom Sauron had slain.  But the Ring betrayed Isildur to his death, and it was lost for many centuries."

"Until it was found by a young Stoor named Déagol," Gandalf went on.  "Stoors are related to Hobbits, you understand.  Déagol and his cousin Sméagol were fishing on the Anduin, and Déagol happened to discover the Ring in the river, not far from where Isildur had fallen.  Sméagol was seized by desire for the Ring, and he murdered Déagol to gain it.  But eventually the Stoors drove him out, and he disappeared into the Misty Mountains, where the Ring ate at his mind and his soul…."

"And turned him into Gollum," Hogan murmured.

Gandalf smiled approvingly.  "You judge correctly, Hogan.  Yes, Sméagol did become Gollum.  And it is this very Ring which Bilbo found in the darkness when he was lost under the Misty Mountains, and Gollum did not know he had lost it until he sought to use it to escape the duty imposed upon him as the loser of the Riddle-game, namely showing Bilbo the way out."

"But the book said that Gollum promised Bilbo the Ring as a present and that when Gollum discovered it was gone, Bilbo made him show him the way out instead," Hogan frowned.

"I know," Gandalf sighed.  "Very unlike Bilbo, to lie like that—and to preserve the lie in writing.  I disbelieved him from the start, you know.  And at last he did tell me the truth, and he confided in Frodo as well before he left the Shire.  I would not be surprised if corrected versions of Bilbo's memoirs are published here in time."

"That lie was one sign of the Ring's identity, was it not, Mithrandir?" Legolas asked.

"Yes," Gandalf nodded.  "Bilbo was such an honest hobbit in so many ways; it troubled me that he could be corrupted by a ring in that way.  There were other signs, too; his obsession of sorts with the Ring, the fact that he had not aged outwardly but was beginning to feel 'thin and stretched,' and his reluctance to leave the Ring behind, among other things.  But it was not until last year that I knew for certain.

"By that time, Bilbo had left the Shire for good, leaving the Ring and everything else to Frodo.  Also by that time, Sauron had returned to Mordor and was searching for the Ring; he had even captured Gollum and learned the two words that most endangered Frodo:  Shire and Baggins.  He immediately sent his servants to regain the Ring from 'Baggins.'  I warned Frodo as soon as I could, but he was reluctant to leave before autumn; as it was, he barely made it out of the Shire unharmed, and he was very nearly killed when the Enemy's servants caught up with him before he reached Rivendell."

"The day may come when our tale will reach this world in full," Aragorn cut in.  "But to cut a long story short, Frodo bore the Ring to Rivendell, where a council of Elves, Dwarves, and Men decided that the Ring could not safely be hidden nor used; our only option was to carry it to Mount Doom to destroy it, and in so doing to destroy Sauron's power forever.  Frodo had already suffered greatly on the journey to Rivendell, but he nevertheless volunteered to bear the Ring to Mordor; and we, his eight companions, have volunteered to go with him as far as possible and to aid him as much as we can."

"How or why our journey has brought us here, we do not know," Gandalf continued.  "But it appears that the Ring has lost none of its power between our world and yours.  In Middle-earth, the Ring attracts evil; we believe this is why this Sgt. Richter was searching outside the building.  If this is true, our very presence endangers you.  However, this is not our only danger.  The Ring can corrupt the hearts of Men and Elves… and even Wizards.  It may still possess the power to rule many nations.  I do not need to tell you what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands.  And to be honest, those wrong hands might even be your own."

"You have proven worthy hosts until now," Legolas stated.  "You have greeted us with hospitality and have not betrayed our presence to our common enemy."

"Yet you had no knowledge of our great secret," Aragorn continued.  "You have not confided all of your thoughts to us, Col. Hogan, which is the mark of a wise leader.  Yet we also are leaders, and we must know what you now intend toward us."

"We're gonna help, aren't we?" Carter asked, frowning.  "Y'know, hide the Ring down here until we find you a way home?"

"We thank you for your valiant offer, Carter, but it may not be such a simple decision," Aragorn countered.  "We do not know what the Ring would do here, even if you were to take it from us for safe-keeping.  And it is difficult to keep the Ring unused; Frodo himself cannot always resist its temptation alone."

"The Wise of Middle-earth refused to take this Ring," Legolas interjected.

"Not even to employ its power to defeat the Enemy," Gandalf concluded.

The Heroes stared at Gandalf and at each other as the implication sank in, becoming almost an unspoken challenge.  Would they take the Ring and use it to end the war?


The corner of Hogan's mouth twitched upward as he considered the possibilities.  Finally, a chance to end it all so everyone could go home.  Once he took out Hitler, there'd be no reason for anyone to stay in Stalag 13.  Schultz could have his toy factory back; the guys could all go home; Klink would no longer be his concern; no more worrying about the Gestapo, no more lying and manipulating, no more skulking and hiding and trying not to get shot.  No more loss of life.  He could finally give Germany back to the real Germans—people like Schultz and Langenscheidt who served only because their country was at war, and people like the Underground who were trying to save their country from the cancer of Nazi ideology.  He'd be hailed as a hero, a savior.  Colonel Robert E. Hogan, the man who saved Europe!

So why did his instincts tell him it was all a crock?

It wouldn't be fair to the men, for one thing.  Sure, when he was given all the credit for past victories, he made sure that the men got their due; he couldn't pull off his crazy schemes on his own, and he knew it.  But that wouldn't be the case if he used the Ring; it would be all his own doing, and it would likely mean leaving the men behind.  He couldn't help remembering how sad and disappointed the men had been when he'd accepted the order to go home.  His men and his command meant the world to him, and he to them; he couldn't abandon them for ultimate power.

Besides, he'd be exceeding orders.  Sure, orders were to "use every means possible to harass and injure the enemy," but that didn't necessarily mean ending the war by himself.  Sure, there were times when circumstances required disobeying or exceeding orders, but those circumstances were rare; and despite the number of lives he could save by doing this, the situation just didn't seem to fit the definition.  Plus, he couldn't imagine any of his superiors greeting the news with unbridled enthusiasm.  He'd heard rumblings from London about something called Operation Overlord, and while Gen. Eisenhower would doubtless be grateful that no one would have to die invading France, he could just hear Patton exploding about the "upstart colonel"—and carrying the day.  And what would he do, use the Ring to make them let him off?  Hogan snorted.  As Newkirk would say, not bloody likely.

And what would happen to Germany?  It's not enough just to liberate a country; it has to be stabilized and given a new government that can actually deal with the aftermath of a war like this one—not like the Weimar Republic, which really couldn't handle the transition from monarchy to democracy.  Liberating Germany would mean shouldering that responsibility himself, wouldn't it?  Could he really do something like that?  Not with the Ring, he couldn't; he'd end up forcing people to do things his way, which (he had to admit) wasn't always the right way.  There were many other cooler, wiser heads than his that would be much better suited to the task.  And they were almost all generals.

No, Hogan thought with a shake of his head.  It's a quick fix, but quick fixes don't usually work as well as they're believed to.  Besides, Eisenhower would kill me if I jeopardized Overlord.


A single thought rose to the fore of Kinch's mind with a speed that almost made him blink.  Revenge.

Racism was bad enough back home, and Detroit wasn't even that bad compared to the Deep South.  But at least the Klan didn't have the power to make their views the law of the land—the ones that went beyond Jim Crow, anyway.  Hitler did, and he was making life a living hell for anyone who wasn't Aryan.  He'd heard the rumors about the death camps, and he had a hunch that the truth was worse than rumor.  He knew firsthand how vicious the Nazis could be; he and Baker and Marcus Simms sometimes compared the scars from the beatings they'd received when they were captured, and quiet Marcus had been shocked into swearing when Baker told them that the monsters who'd questioned him had almost broken his hands before a superior intervened.

With the Ring, Kinch thought, he could make them pay.  He'd get back at every last one of the Krauts who'd looked at him with disgust just because his skin was dark.  He'd hunt down the skunks who'd almost maimed Baker.  He'd hang Nietzsche's sister by her heels for twisting the theory of the Supermensch to fit Nazi ideology.  He'd beat Hitler to a bloody pulp.  He'd show them….

Suddenly, in his mental image, a battered Hitler turned to the terrified Hitler Youth who were standing nearby with a look that clearly said, "I told you so."

Horrified, Kinch let his mental fists drop.  I'd show them they were right.  I'd show them that blacks really are devils.

It was all he could do to keep himself from weeping openly as he prayed for forgiveness for his murderous hatred.  The Ring wasn't worth taking if it would turn him into a monster like that.


Newkirk's eyes glinted.  Oh, he'd make Hitler pay, all right.  He'd make them all pay for what they'd done to London, to England, to so many of his mates who'd died or were captured.  He'd knock Himmler into next week for everyone who'd been tormented by the Gestapo.  He'd make Goering find out what life was like in prison, without pricey cigars or gourmet food or fine wine to keep him fat.  He'd tie Goebbels in knots for the trick Berlin Betty had used to make him nearly refuse to complete a mission.  He'd make 'em all pay.  He'd make sure all his chums were free and safe and happy.  Oh, they'd have a grand time… he'd have a grand time… parades, parties, knighthood, personal thanks from the King, girls, girls, girls….

And then what?

Newkirk suddenly realized that he didn't know how to live like a hero.  He was just a scrappy kid from London; how would he fit in to high society?  Sure, he could use the Ring to make people like him, but what was the good of that?  If people don't like a chap for who he is, power won't make them real friends.  Not like his mates here, who never really cared if he did like brown bread or didn't care about fancy cooking; sure, he and LeBeau had their spats about cuisine and culture, but both of them knew that friendship didn't depend on that sort of thing.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.  The words of England's greatest playwright suddenly came to mind as Newkirk thought of his friends and co-conspirators here in the tunnel.  It was true; his brothers in arms had become like family.  Any power that would change that wasn't worth having, and any society that wouldn't accept someone like the Governor or Kinch or silly Andrew or even little Louis wasn't worth his time.


Freedom for la belle France.  An end to the persecutions of his people.  Sweet, sweet revenge on the dirty Boche and an end to all things German.  Such were the thoughts that filled the mind of Louis LeBeau, who gloried in the thoughts of using the Ring to drive the Nazis out of France altogether.

A sudden image of Schultz's stricken face began to remind LeBeau of reality.  The Frenchman hated Germans with a passion, but if he was honest with himself, he did have a soft spot for the toymaker who was forced to guard him but who seldom interfered with the Heroes' plans.  And there was Langenscheidt, who wasn't such a bad kid despite being a German.  And then there were the people in the Underground, friends and allies… would it be fair to them to destroy the homeland they were fighting to free as surely as the Resistance was trying to free France?

And what of the Allies?  Certainly, France was the greatest country in the world (he thought with a glow of pride), but as ambivalent as the French had always been toward America and Britain, LeBeau had to admit that those countries—and others—had worked hard for years to resist Hitler, and rumor had it that they would soon be invading France and working with the Free French to liberate his homeland.  Could he be such an ingrate as to ignore their work and claim victory all for himself and for France?

Finally, as he wavered, he looked at his fellow spies.  Le colonel was a genius.  So was Carter, although he could also foul things up royally from time to time.  Newkirk… well, Newkirk was English, but they'd come to form an odd sort of friendship through the years at Stalag 13.  And Kinch?  LeBeau had never had a friend about whom he cared so fiercely.

Could he really leave these men behind to suffer while he reveled in victory?

The voice in his head that had prompted the visions assured him that the others wouldn't suffer, that he would be helping them as well, and that they would be grateful for his deeds.  But the practical side of LeBeau had finally reasserted itself, and he knew that such a thing was impossible.  Maybe if General de Gaulle ordered him home, he would go; but until then, his place was here, and not even the power to rule the world could prompt him to leave.


Carter frowned as visions of becoming the sole liberator of Europe bombarded his mind.  It seemed like he'd seen or heard this kind of story before… but when?

As he searched his memory, he thought he recalled Grandfather White Wolf telling the story as he and his cousin Paul—also known as Angry Rabbit Who Has Thorn in Cottontail—sat listening beside the campfire.  Someone had been given a gift that promised power beyond imagining.  The memory was so faint that he couldn't remember all of the details, but one name suddenly jumped out at him.

Coyote.  The gift was from Coyote, and it wreaked havoc.

No wonder they call the Devil Coyote, he thought anew, pushing aside all thought of taking the Ring.  Thank you, Lord, for having Grandfather tell us that story.  I'm not gonna touch any gift that comes from Coyote, not even if it's a diamond the size of the world.


"Well?" asked Gandalf quietly, breaking the reflective silence.

As one, the Heroes shook their heads.  "No."

"Meanin' no disrespect, gents," Newkirk added.

"It's not like they were offering it to us as a gift, Newkirk," Kinch noted.

Carter shook his head emphatically.  "It is a gift… a gift from Coyote.  I will not take it."

Man, Maia, and Elf blinked at the statement, which was like a reverse echo of Boromir's sentiment at the Council of Elrond.

"Qu'est que ce Coyote?" asked LeBeau.

"Coyote the Trickster… he's a character who comes into a lot of the old Sioux legends.  He's a devil who takes many shapes, but he's usually a coyote.  Coyotes are related to wolves," he added before anyone could ask.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gandalf shared a look.  "Just like Sauron," Aragorn murmured.

Carter looked up at him sharply.  "What?"

"In the First Age, when Sauron's power was greater, he was able to wear many guises," Aragorn explained.  "He had many werewolves in his command, and at times he himself took the form of a wolf."

"Our Wargs are not skin-changers," Gandalf added, anticipating the question.  "I am right in thinking that your werewolves are sometimes man, sometimes wolf, am I not?"  At the Heroes' nods, he continued, "Such is not the case with ours.  Wargs are spirits—demons, I think you would call them here—who chose to be incarnated as wolves.  A Warg is much more dangerous than an ordinary wolf, but it can be slain; it is much harder to rid Sauron of his flesh unless he willingly abandons it."

"His defeats have stripped him of much of his power," Legolas pointed out, "and now he can take only the form of the Dark Lord.  Still, your point may be valid, Carter.  Your Coyote may have much in common with Sauron."

"You are indeed wise, friend Carter," Aragorn smiled.

Carter ducked his head and blushed.  "Aw, shucks," he mumbled with an embarrassed smile.

"That Ring's not safe 'ere, though," Newkirk remarked.  "The sooner we get you lot home, the better."

"But in the meantime, we're glad to extend our hospitality, and we'll do everything we can to keep you safe," Hogan added.

"Colonel, do you think we ought to have someone guarding Frodo while he has to stay above ground?" Kinch asked.

"Good idea," Hogan nodded.  "How long do you think that'll be, Aragorn?"

"He should be well enough tomorrow to stay down here," Aragorn replied.

"Okay.  We can work out a schedule upstairs; then we'll need to get to work fitting uniforms and such."

Everyone expressed agreement, and Hogan knocked on the pipes to get Olsen's attention.  A moment later the ladder descended, and the group hurried upstairs again.


A/N:  Lots of little points about stuff mentioned in this chapter:

- Brief technical explanation:  Willow bark extract is salicylic acid, of which aspirin is an acetic ester; aspirin is neither as bitter nor as acidic as plain salicylic acid, which makes it safer to use.  I suspect WWII-era aspirin was buffered, but I don't know.

- Professor Tolkien did genuinely train as a cryptographer, but he was never called to service.  It's just as well for RL that he wasn't, since he was working hard on LOTR at the time, but it seems a shame in this AU to waste an unbreakable code.  The idea is also partially inspired by the stories of the Code Talkers, the Navajo Marines whose code was never broken by the Japanese.

- Because Tolkien hadn't yet conceived of the story of The Lord of the Rings when writing The Hobbit and didn't intend for Bilbo's adventures to be a major part of his legendarium, the '37 edition of The Hobbit has a different version of "Riddles in the Dark" than is found in the current edition.  Originally, Gollum had promised Bilbo the Ring as a prize for winning the Riddle-game, and Bilbo kept quiet about finding it and made Gollum show him the way out instead; once the Ring became more than just a simple magic ring in Tolkien's writings, The Hobbit was revised and the original story was re-imagined as a lie told by Bilbo to establish his right to the Ring.

- According to one of my former German professors, who grew up in the Berlin area during the war years, Nietzsche's original theory of the Supermensch had nothing to do with racial superiority.  After his death, his sister and brother-in-law, who were Nazis, interpreted Nietzsche's works in a way that reinforced the party line.  Having never had the inclination to read Nietzsche, I'm taking Frau H's word for it.

- If someone knows of a real story in which Coyote gives someone a gift that causes trouble, please let me know so I can read it and revise this.  It seems like there ought to be such a story, but since I don't know a lot of Sioux lore, I didn't have any specifics to cite.

Le hannon, Legolas = Thank you, Legolas.

Mae govannen, hir-nin = Greetings, my lord.

Many, many thanks to Mum's The Word for her help with this chapter and the ones to follow; she's been a huge help with brainstorming and research, as well as being a great beta.