A/N: OK next chapter. My beta suggested or seems to think that this story is AU, so I was wondering if it should be AU? Anyway on with the story.

Chapter 2

"Lessons, snaga and clay"

Lying on my bed with my eyes closed I did not wish to wake just yet. It has been a few weeks since my Creation and today Akazdún wishes to continue my work with clay as well as my reading and writing. The latter isn't so bad, it isn't that difficult at all, but the clay is. I sighed, and sitting up, swung my legs over the side of my bed and stood up. I had spent much of my free time working on walking in these last few weeks, and now I would say I'm pretty good at it.

I went over to my wardrobe and changed into a new pair of leggings and a tunic and then put on my boots. Though there were always new things to learn, I wasn't extremely excited about today….

"Azúburza?" I looked up. Akazdún was standing in my doorway looking cross. That was nothing new, and I knew it wasn't just because I was going to be late for my lessons. Akazdún was probably angry with his Elven enemies again. It would be best not to test his wrath…

"I have just awakened…" I started.

"Indeed, however I do not have all day to spend with you. There are other things I must attend to besides your lessons."

"Well, we could skip those if you really—" Akazdún's eyes flashed with anger and I closed my mouth.

"Come." And with that Akazdún walked briskly from the room. I sighed and followed. Sometimes I wish I could just kill off all of those stupid Elves. They make Akazdún so angryI thought to myself.

Akazdún turned and studied me with an expression of cruel amusement on his face. "That would be most useful, yet quite unlikely, Azúburza." Can't I think my own thoughts…? I wondered.

No, Ghakhi, you cannot. Akazdún smiled again and turned to resume our walk toward his study. I sighed and followed again.

After arriving there, we seated ourselves at the small table and Akazdún brought out the ink-well, brushes, and parchment for writing.

"First word…"

I copied and did my best to memorize the words he wrote on the page. Though I would have to look at it again later to make sure I had memorized them thoroughly because Akazdún would test me on these words the next day. There weren't as many words as the first time and Akazdún had given me quite some time to memorize those. But sometimes I really did want to just bring an end to the Elves….I stopped myself thinking that thought as it might make Akazdún more cross than he already was. At that moment there was a knock at the door. Mordistis stood in the doorway and looked slightly frightened.

"My Lord," he started to say.

"Is this important?" Akazdún demanded, not bothering to rise from his chair.

"Yes my Lord…"

"Very well. Azúburza continue to memorize the words. I will return momentarily." He rose and left with Mordistis, closing the door behind him. I got up and promptly went to Akazdún's desk—something he wouldn't approve of—and sure enough I found a "map" as he called it, of the surrounding lands Over in n the far left of the map was where the Elves lived, though it seemed to me that they lived extremely far away from us. Then why should Akazdún be so upset about them they're not…

Because, the rule of Middle-earth shall be mine. Azúburza, now go back and sit down. I spun around. I had been so lost in my own thought that I hadn't heard Akazdún return. He was now sitting in his chair by the table with his brush in hand. I nodded and returned to the table. Akazdún had added a few more words to the page. I copied these dutifully and tried not to think anymore about the Elves. Gil-Galad in particular, seemed to make Akazdún really angry along with those lesser beings called the Númenoreans. They made Akazdún mad also. He would talk at length of how he wanted to find a way to destroy them, but they were too powerful at present. Then I was struck with a question.

"Akazdún, why do you want to destroy the Númenoreans, they're even further away than the Elves and they're not on Middle-earth." Akazdún sighed and put down his brush.

"Because, Azúburza, they are a threat to my power and I will not have that. I intend to be the only 'King' of Middle-earth—"

"But Númenor— " I began.

"Do not interrupt! Numenor," he stressed coldly, "They would try to take what is rightfully mine."s

"But if it's rightfully yours, then why are you constantly—"

'I see that you have no interest in listening. That is fine, study your words then." I dropped my brush on the table, and it left a black smear on my parchment. Akazdún got up yet again and this time went to his desk to consult his "map". I looked at the list of words. Army, battalion, unit, company, banner-man, trebuchet, catapult…These are all words of war…I thought. Why doesn't Akazdún use something else beside that to defeat his enemies…

Something else…Akazdún's thought drifted into my mind. Why not?

Akazdún gave me no answer but I thought or at least I hoped I was right that he's thinking about another way to defeat the Elves. Then he would be as he was in the beginning… I thought back to my memories of that first day. Akazdún was so enamored with me that he forgot about his plans for ruling everything, only for a little while…I sighed. Well, I wouldn't want Akazdún to be unhappy but I wasn't sure if ruling everything was going to make him happy. Maybe it was just getting there that was hard.

I returned to my words and continued to look at them. After some time, Akazdún got up, came over and said, "It is time to work with the clay." I dropped my parchment and looked at the ground. That was what I was dreading earlier.

"Come now, Ghakhi," (1) he said. It seemed that Akazdún's anger had ebbed away somewhat, because it would be nearly impossible for me to have lessons with the clay while Akazdún was angry…. I got up and we left the study and headed down the hallway to another room. This room was large, extremely large, with several different long work tables and other large objects in the room. Akazdún crossed to the table where the wet clay was kept and, un-wrapping it, removed a block of it with a wire. He then set it upon the table.

"Why must I learn to do this?" I asked.

"As I've said before, it will teach your hands to obey you in the most minute and detailed movements." I just nodded. I wasn't sure if I agreed.

Akazdún picked up a large cylindrical object which he used to flatten the clay. (2) He then began to roll the object over the clay to flatten it. It took some time but he eventually got it flat enough. While he was rolling it, he spoke of what he would be teaching me.

"Today, I will show you how to construct a coil pot. It is made by cutting out a base and then adding different sized coils to the base." This sounds really hard…I thought. At last Akazdún was done with the rolling. He then picked up a writing instrument that was for the clay and cut out a circle with it. He then placed it in front of me. I stared at it apprehensively. Akazdún then handed me a brush—this one was different from the writing brush, its hairs were perpendicular to the end of the brush which was flat and they were hard. This was used to "score" the clay. Next came the container of Núshgú (3)which acted like a glue for the clay. I dipped the brush into the slimy substance and traced it around the small circle.

"Good," Akazdún said, "Now you must roll a coil." This I knew how to do well enough, though sometimes one part of the coil would be fatter than another…I tore off a piece of the left over clay and carefully began to roll it upon the table. Akazdún picked up the wax-sealed lid of the Núshgu container, which he had said was made of clay, and resealed it.

"Sorry," I said still trying to get the coil thin enough. There were places along the coil that were bumpy and did not want to smooth out, no matter how hard I rolled it.

"Gentle," Akazdún said arresting my agitated hand. "You must be gentle with it, the clay will not do as you want by pure force, it must be nudged into shape. Now if you could only do that with the Elves… Akazdún burst out laughing.

"If Elves were clay, I would have been master of Middle-earth ages ago!" he smiled. In the meantime, my coil was now thin enough, though it had a few bumps and the middle section was slightly thicker than the outer sections.

"Now you must score the underside of the coil and then set it upon the base." Akazdún said. I picked up the brush, re-opened the Núshgu container and dipped it in. I traced the bottom of the coil and then set it around the clay base. "Good. Now you must use your fingers to attach the clay to the base."

"Isn't it attached already?" I asked.

"No, see the seam where the coil has been attached? It will not hold together."

"Can you show me?" I asked. Akazdún reached over, and with very careful fingers, began to rub the clay ever so slightly so that it seemed to "melt" into the base and there was no crack anymore. But he had only done it with one section, the rest was for me to do. I placed my fingers upon the clay and it instantly squished! "Oh!" I cried frustrated. Akazdún removed my hand and studied the indent. "This can be fixed," he said, "though you will have to roll another coil." I groaned. Why is this so hard! I demanded to no one in particular.

You are not being gentle, Akazdún thought to me, he then took my hand and traced a circle with his index finger. The touch of the finger was extremely light, it was still there, yes, but there was almost no pressure. "That is how much pressure you should put on the clay when attaching the coils." I nodded. Akazdún removed the coil, using the cutting tool, to cut the area where he had used his finger to connect the clay. He then handed my coil back to me and had me re-roll it.

We worked on this for a long time. I had to re-roll coils and Akazdún reminded me to be gentle with the clay, but my fingers didn't want to obey me. I would press too hard and there would be a small indent, or a large one, and then I'd have to re-roll the coil. And as for attaching the coil with my fingers, I would just squish the sides of the coil really thin and Akazdún told me that that would not be good because the clay was now very brittle.

I had managed to attach maybe nine or ten coils, but now I was running into yet another problem, the pot was becoming lopsided, one side was too wide and was leaning dangerously over the base while the other side was still standing straight. I gave a cry of absolute frustration and simply began to smash the lopsided "pot" with my fingers and hand. It was now a misshapen ball between my hands and I squished it and squished it into various shapes making little tunnels with my fingers, At last I tossed the clay down upon the table with a small bang and Akazdún sighed.

"I think I have overestimated what you can do at the moment. We will return to the coil pot later, but the rule still remains, you must be gentle."

"I can't!" I protested, "And you can't do anything with it!" I promptly picked up the ball of squished clay and flung it at the wall. It made a large squishy noise as it hit. Akazdún gave me a (y)ou-know-better look and used a spell to re-summon the clay back to his hand. He then put it back on the table and studied me for a moment.

"I suppose that's enough with the clay today. Why don't you come with me? I want to show you something." I nodded and got up. I then thought that I wished for the remaining clay to leave my hands and it did so.

Akazdún led me down many hallways and stairs until we (had) left the Tower entirely. Across the cracked plain we went, heading toward some kind of encampment. As we arrived I saw two of the most—they were not good to look upon—beings I had ever seen.

"These Azúburza, are Uruks." Akazdún said thoughtfully, "They are what make up my armies."

"Why do they look so…um…."

"Hideous?' he laughed, "Because they were created to frighten the enemy," he smiled and then turned to the Uruk-sentries. At the sight of Akazdún they instantly moved aside. Akazdún led me into the camp. I saw many things that were rather strange—but interesting. The Uruks were cooking it seemed, well actually, there were lesser ones doing the cooking and they looked to be feminine. They wore very warn out and old looking clothing and they did not look well.

"Who are the women?" I asked.

'They," Akazdún said, "are slaves, or snaga," I nodded.

"They will do what ever you say?" I asked.

"What ever I say," Akazdún laughed."They will do what ever the Uruks say," he laughed again. One of these women who was tending to a large vat looked up. She stared at us and trembled with fear. She didn't look to be very old. In fact I thought that she looked rather fragile and would be easily broken.

"Hi…" I said by way of greeting. Akazdún looked darkly amused.

"That one has commanded this one to speak?" the girl asked, trembling even harder.

"Yes, I suppose so…" I said, "What is your name?"

"This one has no name, not anymore," and the girl began to cry.

"Speak your old name!" Akazdún commanded harshly. The girl dropped the large spoon she had been holding and fell to her knees.

"Yes, This one will obey that one! Its name was once…Kielda, but now it has no name!" Her voice was small and shrill and all the Uruks laughed. I was now feeling a new emotion. I couldn't name it though.

You waste your pity, Akazdún thought to me silently.

Pity? I asked.

The foolish emotion you are feeling; there is no reason for it.

Did Kielda do something to harm you? She seems so—

Weak, no, not in particular and she has no name, she is a snaga, and nothing more, being of such a low stature). He finished. Kielda, or rather the snaga-girl just continued to stare, terrified.

At last one of the Uruks came at her with a length of leather in its hand. Get up you wench!" He snarled. We're hungry, and we're tire of waitin, hurry it up!'He then flung the piece of leather through the air, and it came in contact with the snaga's back. She had turned and was on her knees her head in her arms.

"This one is sorry!" the girl wailed, "It will cook! It will cook! Just don't hurt this one!" She got up, picked up her dropped cooking spoon with its immensely long handle and placed it into the pot again. The Uruk, with a really nasty expression on its face, raised the leather strap and whacked the girl with it. She gave a scream of agony as she was knocked against the side of the boiling pot. The Uruks laughed harshly and Akazdún smiled. I just stood there frozen. If I hadn't talked to her—I mean it, this wouldn't have happened.

Talking to a snaga doesn't excuse it from doing its work. Akazdún seemed extremely amused. I just nodded. I suppose that makes sense. It was supposed to be cooking so the Uruks could eat, and despite the fact that I talked to it, it still had to cook….

We left the Uruk encampment and returned to Akazdún's study. Then a thought occurred to me.

"Akazdún, could you not treat the snaga like the clay? As you have said, be gentle?" This question in itself made Akazdún laugh himself sick, he laughed and laughed banging his fist upon his desk. At last he was able to speak.

"No, Azúburza, snaga,especially those who belong to the Uruks, need to learn strict obedience. Being gentle with them would cause quite a lot of problems." He smiled.

"But what about me? You are kind to me and teach me things." I said. Akazdún came over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"You are my creation and child, and not a snaga." Akazdún smiled. "And speaking of snaga, I am going to gift you with one, however this one will be different from the property of the Uruks. You shall see, but for now it is getting late and you should return to your room to sleep."

I nodded and after a thought, embraced Akazdún wholeheartedly. He smiled and ran the fingers of one hand through my hair. "You have pleased me in some ways today, Ghakhi, but not in others," I instantly thought of the clay incident and blushed.

"Sorry…" I muttered.

"Indeed, and now it is time for bed." I nodded and stepped away from my creator.

"Good night, Akazdún," I said turning toward the door.

"Good night." I left Akazdún's study and headed for my own room. As I climbed into bed, I couldn't stop thinking of the snaga-girl. What was her name? Oh, I do not remember, I suppose that's the way it's supposed to be. She was just a low ranking snaga of the Uruks. And with that thought in my head, I fell asleep.

A/N: Ok that's the end of this chapter.

(1 )Ghakhi: Nick-name BS for "child".

(2) OK, I don't think there were any slab-rollers in Middle-earth. The slab-roller is used to flatten the clay, but I think before they were used, people just flattened the clay with a rolling-pin-like object, though this would take some time and be extremely tedious.

(3) Núshgu, núshg would be for clay, and –gu somewhat like English goo, I suppose My attempt at translating what my ceramics teacher called "slip" it's a substance made from the clay that is very wet, sort of like taking some wet clay and placing it in a basin of water so it starts to dissolve and becomes extremely slimy, though I'm not sure if water is used, I think it is, but again I'm not one-hundred percent ssure.