AN: Disclaimer: Bioware owns DA:I.
My Inqusitor Lavellan is a Dalish hunter, who praises Mythal (given her vallaslin). The scene happens in Skyhold, but before the fade kiss. " " is speech, ' ' is thoughts.
"Aneth ara, Sarel, aneth ara, ma lethallin!
Dareth na'an sahlin. Abelas, ir abelas, tel'garas. Da'mien ma vhenan in, ma numin melava su. Melava halani, Mythal'enaste. Dar nan'din, emma elenasalin. Ar belelvarel nadas, ar tu elrevas nadas. Arlathshemvhen halam, elgar'harel ma vir ena. Ar tu then, ma falon.
Tel'him, souveri shiral ven. Dirth ma na invhenan, lethallin? Sa'vunin elinan,dar nehn'vunin, arla tu u'din. Ma'adahlen tu ena.
Ar lath ma, lethallin. Dareth shiral, ma lethallin.
Ellana."
Inqusitor Lavellan finished reading and sighed wearily. This was the longest text she ever wrote in elven, a letter, a letter home, to her older brother. She spent more than half an hour, mumbling the words under her breath, trying to figure out how to write them down. Writing wasn't her strong side.
She probably got it all wrong. Would her family think her disrespectful to write them with mistakes? Would they even understand her meaning? She needed to have it corrected. And only one man in Skyhold could help her. Solas.
Lavellan opened the door to the rotunda without knocking, as always. She saw the other elf hunched over a shard on his table, some small magic at his fingers. He touched, studied, probed; he didn't even notice her enter.
"Good day to you, Solas," she began politely," can you help me with something?"
"Inquisitor." Solas straightened himself and greeted her with the tiniest graceful nod of his head. "I will try." Ever so careful about his promises, his words, his deeds.
A delicate movement of his wrist and the shard magic was gone. He had called her graceful, but how could she ever match him?
Her eyes returned to his face and his attentive, expecting expression, eyes slightly narrowed, urged her to explain the matter.
"My clan was attacked by bandits. Our soldiers helped, but..." His obvious lack of reaction constrained her from elaborating further. "I want to write a letter home, at least partly in elven." This, she had to explain. "So that they know I'm still one of them, that I'm still Dalish, not the human Inquisitor. That I still remember, that I haven't left them."
The choice of her words intrigued him. Did they have more than ear shape in common? Yet, he hesitated.
"Letters to family are very personal things. I'm not sure I can do it for you, Inquisitor." Solas eyed her as calm and collected as ever.
Ellana widened her eyes at his open refusal. That was unexpected of him. Or maybe he just got her wrong?
"You do not have to write it for me, Solas!" She exclaimed. "I've got it here," Ellana unfolded a paper she held, ink stained and crumpled from her fumbling. "I only ask you to correct the spelling and such..." she trailed off, coming nearer to him and stretching out a hand with the paper. Inquisitor looked at the older elf with hope, seeing his resolve weaken as he took the document slowly. Still, he didn't even look at the text.
"Are you sure you want me to read it? It seems hardly appropriate," he voiced his doubts. He was not sure whether he was really concerned about her privacy or didn't want to involve himself more than needed. The situation was not the one he could've foreseen.
"Please, Solas! I can't be seen by my clan as an ignorant girl, that wasn't taught to write! I'm the Inquisitor now!" Lavellan pleaded heartily.
The elven mage sat down in his chair, finally giving in. He felt the smallest of smiles tug at the corners of his mouth, the one smile she had no means seeing. A minute ago she was telling the opposite! Such quick temper, so quick to despair, so quick to hope, so quick to believe, so quick to trust... 'Da'shemasha, elshemasha, ma'shemasha...' Solas forced himself to stop that trail of thought.
"You will always be da'len to you family, Inquisitor." He said while taking his pencil and beginning to correct the words before him. Lavellan put her chin at the top of his chair watching his slender fingers write perfectly shaped letters above her crossed ones. He was a master at the art of vallas.
"And should not they be responsible for your education?" Solas continued teasingly.
"Well, they taught me. I wasn't very eager to learn then..." Ellana mused softly.
Her confession only proved his fears. 'Mala nuvenin, mala dirth'isala. Ar tu ma bel'him.'
"I believe it is done, Inquisitor." Solas got up and faced her half-sitting on the edge of the table. "Only one question - would you read this sentence? I have doubts I got the meaning." He underlined the words with his finger, while Lavellan leaned in to read them.
"Da'mien ma vhenan in, ma numin melava su." Ellana said closing her eyes, afraid she would cry here before him. The day she learnt about the attack was still fresh in her memory.
The tenderness of her voice nearly caught him off guard. It was long since he heard elvhen spoken with such caring, such affection, longer since by a woman.
Solas corrected his notes putting the letter on his lap. "Here you are," he held out the paper. Inquisitor took it, put it before her eyes, and felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment. Nearly all the words were corrected. She glanced at him apologetically.
"There is no need to be that embarrassed. You are a hunter, and I have seen you shoot." Solas offered not unkindly.
"I'm afraid I'll do it all wrong again, there is so much to rewrite. Can I do it here so you can approve the result?" she wondered unsure. She'd already taken much of his time.
"I consider it wise to finish what you've started." Elven mage stated. "Sit." He gestured to his chair.
Ellana obeyed without a thought. How could he command her ever so easily, yet full of grace and right to do so? She began her work, progressing much slower than him.
Solas watched her with the strange feeling of inner peace. He might have made her want learning, but teaching her was so enjoyable he could never imagine it. The way she tried to copy his letter shapes...was incredible.
"Solas, please, explain me this," Ellana called and he turned his attention to her writing. "Why do you put a comma between 'ma' and 'lethallin' in 'ar lath ma lethallin', but not in 'dareth shiral ma lethallin'? Aren't the phrases similar, with the same person addressed?" she asked frowning over this part of text.
"Because here 'ma' means 'you' and here it means 'my'." Solas replied simply.
"How can it be? One word for both 'me' and 'you'?" Lavellan exclaimed incredulously. "Aren't ancient elves just stupid to mess with their language like that?"
To that, Solas laughed. Heartily, like he hadn't laughed for ages. This girl amused him to no end.
"Could you perhaps consider the thought" he answered, irony thick in his tone, mirth still lingering in his eyes," that it is Dalish who messed up the language?"
Solas eyed Ellana attentively, glad to see her brows frown even more not in offence, but in impatience.
"Explain me!" She demanded.
The older elf grinned once more and obliged.
"There were several forms of 'you' in elven language, to discriminate between people you address. 'Ma' is the form you use speaking to your close ones, as you can say you own them in a sense, and it remained in these caring phrases Dalish kept. Another form, 'na', preserved in the possessive pronoun, was used to address your betters - your master, your lord, your god."
Ellana listened, fascinated, looking up to him, as he stood up during his small lecture.
"So may I actually say 'Ar lath na'?" she asked, trying the new words on her tongue.
"You may." She felt something change in his intonation, his eyes serious, him standing tall and regal above her. The embodiment of elvhen.
"Not to me though." Solas added, his face softening, the hint of a grin on his lips teasing her.
"Wha-? I'm not-" words didn't come easy to her, as she realized his implications, blushing again and fiercely this time. He began to laugh at her sudden helplessness, and it was so contagious she followed him in his joy.
"You bear the wrong name, Solas. Bora'samahl, I name you," Ellana breathed happily collecting her strength after this tiring fit of laughter.
Solas smiled softly at her words. Many things about her he hadn't long experienced. But this, this happened never. Never once did another elf give him praise in a name. She didn't really know him or her reasoning was clouded by the Anchor, but still. She called him a Laugh-bringer.
"Ma serannas, lethallin," he finally answered. 'Mala u'din.'
The change in his way of addressing her was not lost on her.
After a small pause he continued: "I believe your letter is perfect now." His face returned to its usual state of the calmest politeness.
Ellana got the meaning that the conversation was over.
"Ma serannas, Bora'samahl," she bowed slightly and left him to his studies and his thoughts.
AN: Thank you for reading! Translations, if needed (don't be too hard on my elven).
The letter:
"I greet you, Sarel, I greet you, my brother!
Let your place be safe now. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that I didn't come. Little blades were in my heart when misfortune happened with you. I helped, Mythal be blessed. Let there be no vengeance, this is our victory. I must try much longer, much harder. I must make us free. The Conclave (Arlathshemvhen, lol) ended, but an evil spirit appeared in my way. I will stay alert, my friend.
I'm still the same, but I'm walking the tiring way. Tell me what is in your heart, brother? One day we will meet, let this day be joyous, I won't be alone again. My forest will appear.
I love you, brother. Good bye, my brother.
Ellana."
Da'shemasha, elshemasha, ma'shemasha – Quick little girl, our (meaning elven) quick girl, my quick girl.
Mala nuvenin, mala dirth'isala. Ar tu ma bel'him. Now you want [to learn], now you are in the need of knowledge. I make you change a lot.
Mala u'din. – You are not alone now.
I always wondered how 'ma' can be both 'you' and 'me'. And when Solas told Lavellan he loved her, I totally got 'ma vhenan' as 'my heart'. Many languages have multiple forms of you (even English!). So I thought I could fantasize a bit.