I do not own Lord of the Rings, or any of Tolkien's characters. Any characters and plot lines I create are mine.

A/N: Well, that was a longer break than I expected, and I am sorry. When my director set the dates for the play, he did not count on a hurricane or the supposed snow storm in which all evening activities would be cancelled... and no snow fell. Not a single flake! And I know there wasn't, because when I walked to the mall, it was raining. I am the props manager for the play, which means all this week I got up early for debate practice at 5:30, went to school until 3:00, immediately went to the stage to build props until 6:00, ate Wendy's, pizza, or other fatty fast foods which I really should not be eating, helped run the show until around 10:00, took a shower and did any homework I deemed important, and went to be bed somewhere between 11:00 and 12:00. Yesterday I skipped half the day of school so I could finish building some props before opening night, and ten minuted before places I dried one under a hand dryer in the bathroom. At least the show went off without a hitch, as long as you do not count the missing broom in Scene 1 and the fact that a flower stand never made it on stage. I finally got to sleep in this morning and write this! YES! I think I lost my mind this week, so I hope this chapter is good.

Chapter 6: Elvish

"Alright, how did you know about the library?"

Azruphel practically ran back to Strider's cell after exploring the hidden room. Strider, of course, did not directly answer her question.

"Did you find what you were looking for, Shaataz?" Strider asked, using the fake name Azruphel had given him.

"Well, normally I would, except I did not know what I was looking for," Azruphel said, pulling a book from the bag she carried on her shoulder. "I can't read Elvish."

Sure enough, the book in question was not in common tongue, or any other tongue that Azruphel actually could read.

"I do not think a book on healing herbs will help you much," Strider said.

Azruphel suddenly had an idea. "So, you can read Elvish."

"Yes."

Azruphel shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the idea. It was crazy, after all. However, she could not think of a reason not to ask, so she did it anyway. "Can you teach me?"

"Teach you Elvish? With all due respect, I do not believe you can pick up a language in a day."

Azruphel laughed. "I am not talking about a day! A week or so. Just enough that I could find a book on ring lore or history. I would know it already if anyone here would teach me."

"And when you find a book, what then?" Strider asked.

"Well," Azruphel began, realizing she had not thought out the plan. "Perhaps you could translate."

Strider thought about the proposal as Azruphel watched him closely. "I have my price," he finally responded. Azruphel had been expecting a bargain.

"I can't let you go, if that is what you are asking for!"

"No, nothing of the sort."

"Then what?"

"Decent food, perhaps. Fresh water. Maybe a pillow."

"I will see what I can do," Azruphel said, her voice barely masking her excitement. "I will agree about the food. That orc stuff is pretty bad."

Strider smiled. "Sindarin or Quenya?"

"There are two? What is the difference?" Azruphel asked.

"How about you bring a book so I know what to teach you. Do you have something to write with?" Azruphel crouched down, pulling ink out of her bag and handing it over to him along with a quill and paper. "Look for these words on the titles. They may contain information you are looking for."

"Thank you."

"Hannon le," Strider said.

"What?"

"It means 'thank you' in Elvish."

"Hannon le, Strider," Azruphel said, and was moving to get up when the door started to swing open. Suddenly, Azruphel shoved the book and paper in the bag and stood, saying in a calm but authoritative voice, "There must be a reason, so tell me!"

Strider's eyes went wide and looked past her, but Azruphel already knew who was behind her. In her interest in speaking with Strider, she had not been paying attention to the position of the Witch-king in the back of her mind. Now, Er-Murazor stood behind her, though the reason for it, she did not know.

"Let's talk," he said in black speech, which meant that the conversation would happen right there because Strider would not understand it.

"About what?" Azruphel asked genuinely confused.

"You killed an orc."

"So? Why do you care?"

"I do not care about the life of one orc. I just want to know why you killed it in front of a prisoner."

Azruphel started to panic before reminding herself to remain calm. "I gave him an order. He refused to follow it, and then he charged me. I reacted."

"You should not have done it in front of him," Er-Murazor stated firmly. "It makes Mordor look weak if we cannot keep our own orcs under our control."

"Really? I think it makes Mordor look strong. We can sacrifice an orc or two, and our justice is swift, as well as without mercy. I do not see a problem with what I have done."

"What made you do it?"

"I told you. He was disobeying orders."

"Yes, but why were you down here in the first place? You left dinner early. None of the orcs expected you to be down here."

Now Azruphel could sense trouble. This was the real reason Er-Murazor had come. She had broken her pattern. She knew she could not tell the Witch-king her original plan of sharing her secrets to get Strider to share his. None of the Nazgûl would approve.

"I needed to check something. I found Thagûrz drowning the prisoner for torture. I told him to stop, and he didn't. He got angry, attacked, and I was forced to kill him. That is all."

Er-Murazor seemed skeptical. "Alright, Azruphel. Just remember, you have a job to do." The last part he said in Common Speech. The Nazgûl swept out of the room, leaving Azruphel standing awkwardly as Strider looked up.

"What happened?"

Azruphel almost forgot that they had been speaking in black speech. "It is nothing," she said. "He was just checking about that one orc, Thagûrz." Then Azruphel looked away, slightly embarrassed. She had been lectured in front of a prisoner. "I am going to look for a book."

"Are you alright?" came Strider's voice from the corner.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I will be back." With that, Azruphel all but ran from the room, to the east staircase. She entered the room and started searching for a book with any words in the title that matched the list Strider had given her. It took several hours before Azruphel finished going through the room, but at least she had seven books to show for it. As she started back to Strider's cell, she began to think about what she was doing. She was not a rebel, in fact this was one of the few times she had questioned anything about her lifestyle. Strider seemed to be telling the truth, but Azruphel decided to be wary. She had taken every book containing just one word from the three on the list, but there was one book that contained all three. Suddenly, Azruphel changed direction, heading to her room. She hid the book under her bed and placed a spare cloak on top of it before going back to see Strider. He could always fool her by making up a translation. Azruphel would not know if the passage was correct or not, but if she asked him to teach her a little, first, then she could at least tell according to sentence structure if it was correct. She also stopped to grab something for Strider to eat that was not orc food.

Making sure there were not any listeners, she entered his cell. Without saying a word, she dropped the food in front of him, and smiled when his face visibly brightened. While he ate, she pulled out the six remaining books.

"I found these in the library. Are they any good?" she asked.

"I gave you the words history, rings, and lore. These are basic history books. There might be something in here, but I will not make any promises."

"Could you still teach me Elvish, though?"

Strider sighed. "Since I am here, I will teach you some Elvish, but I doubt I will be able to teach you much."

Azruphel smiled. "We will see about that." Strider was yet to find out just how good Azruphel was with language.

***Azruphel***

Azruphel proved to be a fast learner, in Strider's standards that is. In two weeks time, she had memorized the long lists of vocabulary that Strider had put in front of her, and was figuring out sentence structure just by listening to Strider speak.

"How many languages do you know?" Strider asked while eating dinner one day. Azruphel had upheld her end of the bargain beyond his standards, providing meats and bread above orc quality and in high amounts, as well as water and decent bedding.

"Well, I can speak Westron, Rohirric, Dalish, Khuzdul, Adûnaic, Black Adûnaic, and Black Speech. There are also a few tongues of Easterlings, and some Haradrim languages that I can speak."

Strider either was shocked or impressed. Perhaps both, Azruphel thought.

"That must be why you are learning Sindarin so quickly," Strider said.

"I suppose," Azruphel replied. Over the past two weeks, she had grown more comfortable around Strider. He seemed genuinely happy when teaching her Elvish. More importantly, he seemed truthful. It was a step in the right direction, and Azruphel decided to bring him the seventh book soon.

A/N: Please review!