Wow! Thanks for all the lovely comments and follows and nice things. It's good to know I'm not awful, haha!
So a few notes on this: I know like, nothing about Elvish so I'm just assuming everyone speaks Sindarin and rolling with it. Also, there's like no resources on the language of Dale (that I can find, anyway) so I just kind of mashed up some Icelandic and Danish. Close enough. Gold star. Woohoo.

"Do you speak the language of Dale?"

Milandy gave a jolt in the stables, not expecting anyone to have joined her. It was early in the morning, and she'd assumed all would be nursing themselves after the night's drinking. Typical that Legolas would be up early when no one else was, however.

She turned her head to glance at him from her horse, before returning to brushing Jodis' coat. "I'm not as fluent as I should be, but yes."

"It is a good language," he mused, approaching her slowly, his steps casual. "You should keep it with you."

"I've never really had use," she shrugged. "Dalish is rarely spoken these days outside of Dale, and it's hardly a charming language?"

Legolas chuckled, crossing his arms and watching her. "And what is a charming language?" He asked. She gave another shrug, reaching up to stroke the mane of her horse.

"You know, the Rohirric or the Elvish tongues. Words that sound as beautiful as the meaning that they carry, even to a non-speaker."

"That is not entirely true," he slowly spoke, leaning against one of the stable railings.

Milandy turned to face him, giving a smile, her eyebrow raised. "Say the ugliest thing you can to me in your language, go on."

He eyed her for a moment, a frown on his face, hesitant to insult her – that was obvious, After she gave him an encouraging smirk, however, he shifted, giving a nod and defeated exhale. "Ce uchand, orvelethril."

"See?" She said. "That sounded beautiful." She gave a pause, her mouth ajar. "...What did you say?"

"I said you were stupid," he mused, tossing his head from side to side, a casualness to his face, "and that you are a lover of orcs." He waited in anticipation for her reaction, visibly relaxing when she gave a laugh. "Your turn," he said, nodding to her. "Say something kind in Dalish. We will see if it sounds as terrible as you say."

"Ég haber at barnabörnin mín hafi sögur sem ég mun segja beim af van u barnabörn beirra." She spoke quickly and with ease, taking him off guard a little. He wondered if she'd been telling the truth about her fluency. "Well?" She asked.

"It..." he went silent, thinking hard on how to convey what he'd heard. "It sounds like a drum."

"A drum?" She laughed.

"Yes." He gave a nod. "There's a rhythm to it, a round sound. Like a drum." He gave a smile. "What did you say?"

He gave a soft smile, sighing and shaking her head. "I hope the tales that I tell of you travel from my grandchildren to their grandchildren," she repeated in the common, sounding slightly defeated. "It's an old Dalish saying. Hardly as poetic as Elvish, but I have to make do with what I have."

"Make do?" He asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she laughed, "I hardly had someone to teach me the Elvish tongue."

"You assume you have the aptitude," he teased. Milandy scowled at him, crossing her arms and shifting her weight from one leg to another.

"I'll have you know I have a grand aptitude for languages!" Milandy argued. "I even learned some of the Variag tongue when I was on the border." She puffed her chest out a little at this, proud of herself. Milandy neglected to mention, however, that she knew just enough Variag to state she wanted no conflict, buy meat and milk and say thank you. The majority of her dealings with the Variag had been with their trading caravans – but she wasn't about to let that on.

"Then you should have no trouble learning the Elvish tongue." Legolas gave a smirk and Milandy pursed her lips together, watching him carefully.

"And I suppose you'd be any better at learning Dalish?" She asked, eyebrow raised. "It is not a language for dainty elvish tongues." She paused. She'd wanted that to sound tough, but it sounded like something else.

Not noticing her awkward phrasing – or, rather, choosing to ignore it, – he gave her a smile, a genuine one. "How about we find out?" He asked. "I will teach you the Elvish tongue, and you will teach me Dalish. We'll see who learns the quickest."

"Fine!" She snapped, feeling quite competitive all of a sudden. She hated when he acted so... so... arrogant! She wondered if all elves were like this, or just him. "Dalish is no easy language."

"Neither is mine."

Milandy moved to leave the stables, but stopped herself, suddenly, as if a wall had appeared before her. "Yesterday," she began, speaking slowly, carefully choosing her words, "you said something about me. I mean, in nightfall, I mean," she began to stutter. Maybe she wasn't going to choose her words carefully. "Well, you were going to say something, but then you didn't, and I was wondering-"

"Law lîn síla sui Ithil," he said, a soft smile on his face that broke into another of his smirks not soon after when Milandy realised that was his response.

"What does that mean?" She asked, sounding panicked.

"If you pay attention and do well, you will be able to translate it for yourself!"