Chapter Text
Glossary:
For worldbuilding reasons I don't touch on in this fic, the borrower language (yth Hwistren) borrows (hah) a lot of its lexicon from Cornish, with several influences from Old English and Middle English, but it's syntax is somewhat closer to German. For everyone's sake including my own I'll refrain from posting the IPA pronunciations, but the letters "ch" are pronounced as in the word "loch" and the letter "g" as a "y" sound, and the "r" is an alveolar tap.
sgauthec (SYOW-thek) - humans ("sgauth" shadow + "-ec" collective suffix, basically means "shadow makers")
bychanec (bee-CHAN-ek) - borrowers as aspecies ("bychan" diminished + "-ec" collective suffix)
thull (thool) - burrow/bed/nest
cythe(n) (KEY-thuh)- clan/extended family
stathlgn (STATH-ling) - "stath" to stop/camp/gather/regroup
gytn (YEET-n) - giant/troll/ogre (notably viewd among traveling borrowers as tricksters)
mbos (bos) - promise/deal/agreement
besteth (BE-steth) - to host/offer hospitality to/support in one's home
vennouer (ven-OW-er) - borrowers (specifically those living in a human's home by borrowing, equivalent in context to "gleaner")
ys (ees) - yes/affirmative
luches (LOO-chus - mouse
myn (meen) - mine
yth Hwhistren (eeth WIST-ren) - the borrower language, "hwistr" means "whisper", so "the language that is whispered"
The word "truz" (trooz) isn't part of the borrower language, but comes from the same Proto-Germanic roots as the word "troll".
Scene Translations:
"Hail/Hey, gytn!" ("Ywar, gytn!" - "ywar" is a greeting but it's a very informal one)
"Hey yourself, borrower," the human said, which Roman couldn't begin to decipher, but he sounded amused. ("Ywar dousen, bychanec" )
Though Virgil seemed anything but. His entire body was tense, and yet he was glaring up at the human as if demanding to be taken seriously.
"I need to make a bargain with you," Virgil said, lifting his chin. ("Thom my gan dou mbos'ha")
Whatever his words meant, it was Roman's guess that he was trying to be brave about it. And whatever meaning they carried, suddenly the human seemed even more interested than he had only moments before. Though Roman unfortunately wasn't gifted any other clues about that meaning, as all the human did was wave as if to invite Virgil to continue.
"Beseteth the borrower," Virgil said, "and I'll serve you a year in your thull (nest/shelter)." ("Besteth dou den vennouer, nu chyll bledn a thulled dousen gunis" )
And this, unfortunately, did come with some indication of his meaning—as well as a reminder for Roman, whose head was slightly muddled by his fever, that he was actually a present party to the exchange. Because Roman couldn't have made a guess at what the words meant to save his life, but he absolutely noticed it when Virgil suddenly gestured towards him.
"Wait, Virgil, what-"
Unfortunately, his words were interrupted—and overshadowed, and brought to a halt altogether as Roman was shocked into startled silence—by a bout of laughter from the human, one as sudden and as loud as a thunderclap.
"You, serve me in my thull (nest/bed)?" the human said, sounding almost startled. "For a year? That's your bargain?" ("Dou, a mysen thull a gunis? Bledn? Bes'ha mbosed?")
"It is," was Virgil's response. (Bes ys)
Roman knew, from his own clumsy attempts at communication, that if it ended with "ees" the answer was probably some flavor of agreement. Roman just wished for the life of him that he had any idea of what Virgil had just agreed to. And Virgil didn't seem particularly happy, either, when the man seemingly had no more to say on the matter. Indeed, the human briefly considered the both of them in silence before his lips pulled in a slow, almost mischievous grin and he turned to make his way back to the counter.
(One that offered a glimpse of...some rather alarmingly sharp-looking teeth.)
Caught off guard by the sudden, imminent threat of being sold, Roman was beginning to feel a bit dizzy, the sudden fear doing him no favors at all when his fever was already had him so unsteady. Virgil caught him as he swayed, helping him gently to sit down. His face was pale, his features pinched with stress, and it was clear that he was terrified.
"Forgive me," Virgil said quietly. "I didn't know where else we could go." (Gevath my. Ych wod na an wyr pled.- see, I technically worked in "I didn't know where else to go".)
"Water, please, my mouse?" the voice repeated slowly. (luches myn - an endearment that Virgil does not find particularly endearing)
Somehow, Virgil didn't look very happy about the request—or perhaps it was the words that followed it—but he stood up and left, presumably to fulfill it, nonetheless.
"He's asking about your bargain, my mouse," Janus shot toward Virgil. (Hy govn av mbosed, luches myn,)
It was spoken in a tone that Roman couldn't help but interpret as teasing. And this certainly seemed to be an accurate read when Virgil's face flushed bright red once more and he buried his face in the fabric of his sleeves.