Day 8: Lessons (30 Days with Noah)

Char: Dorian & Noah
Ch summ: Noah tries to teach Dorian how to speak the elvhen language.
Notes: See description below.

30 Days of Noah

Lessons

(noun)

a thing learned or to be learned by a student.

    “You are insane, ma lethallin,” Noah said, snickering. Dorian smirked.

    “Well, if you can converse in English, I can converse in elven.” Noah and Dorian were in the library. Noah had been reading some of the elven literature that had been gifted to the inquisition by the Dalish elves in the Exalted Plains. Dorian had commented on how he’d rarely seen the elf in the library. He went as far as to ask the elf if he could even read, though he said in a softer way.

    Noah had then glared at Dorian and told him he wasn’t illiterate, he just didn’t find human literature as interesting as they usually had some horrid stereotype about elves and elvish culture. He then said that translated books often were never translated correctly or purposefully translated wrong to suit the purpose and agenda of those translating. That lead to the mage asking if Noah could teach him the elven language so he could read a book from the elven point of view.

    “You do realize reading the language and speaking the language are two different levels.”

    “Yes, yes…but if I can speak the English drawl after being born and raised in Tevinter, I’m pretty sure I can pick up the Elven language.”

    “Ma lethallin, you underestimate the difficulty of the elven language. It cannot be translated word for word, rather it is phrase for meaning.”

    “Okay, then let us start with this malethallin business you’ve been calling me lately. What does that mean?”

    “It essentially means 'my friend'.” Noah closed the book he held and put it to the side.

    “My friend, huh? Lethallin. Lethallin.” Dorian tested the word for himself. “Malethallin.”

    “Ma lethallin. It is two not one word.” Noah chuckled as Dorian continued to repeat the phrase. 

    “Teach me some more phrases,” Dorian urged.

    “Ma serannas. It means 'thank you' or literally 'my thanks'.” Noah crossed his hands and smiled as Dorian tested the words.

    “Ma sernans?”

    “Ma Serannas,” Noah repeated slower.

    “Ma serannas. My thanks. Ma lethallin. My friend.” Dorian repeated the phrases a few times. Noah grinned.

    “You’re off to a good start,” Noah said, chuckling.

    “Because I have such a fine teach - in all aspects, of course." Dorian wiggled his eyebrow and twirled his mustache causing Noah to chuckle. "How would you go about writing these words?” 

    “Don’t rush it, lethallin. You must first learn to crawl before you can run.”

    “You sound like Solas now.” Dorian rolled his eyes. Noah raised an eyebrow.

    “Oh?”

    “And then that,” Dorian said, smirking. Noah smirked but didn’t comment. The two continued on in this manner for a long while. 

    Noah covered his mouth with the back of his hand. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he gave a suppressed yawn. “It is getting pretty late. Perhaps we can pick this up later?”

    “Yeah.” Noah smiled, his eyes half lidded. He made to stand but Dorian grasped his hand.

    “One thing that I have been wondering about: What does ma vhenan  mean?” Noah froze. “You’ve called me that a few times before.”

    “I, uh,” Noah chuckled nervously. “I, its just another way to say friend, is all.” Dorian pursed his lip. He could tell the elf wasn’t being entirely truthful but he let is slide.

    “I see. How does one say good night?”

    “Dar’hamin-ma eth. It essentially means 'may your rest be safe'.” Noah smiled. Dorian tested each word individually.

    “Well, then, Dar’hamin-ma eth, ma vhenan.” Dorian observed the way Noah stiffened at the added words. He didn’t comment on it. He assumed the elf would tell him what it really meant later…or he could just go down and ask Solas.

    “Ah…yeah…Dar’h,hamin-ma eth, ma…vhenan…” Noah’s face was dusted a light pink. Dorian released his hand and watched him flee the library. Dorian turned to the bookcases with a furrow in his brow. There had to have been at least one book on the elven language that was at least half accurate in its translation.

    “Ma vhenan…” Dorian mumbled to himself.