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To the people of Tamriel, it was well known that each race had its own language spoken in their home province and while some were generally pretty close to others, each one was different and unique in many ways. Of course, most people spoke Tamrielic (or Common), a language that was spoken and taught all across Tamriel, but that never stopped others from slipping in bits of their native language into sentences.
In the Second Era, the Vestige and her partners were walking the streets of Leyawiin and excitedly discussing various adventures they had had together. The Vestige, Wylarin, was talking amicably about a group of skilled archers they had encountered before faltering both in word and step, her face scrunched up in thought. “Hmm, I guess they’re kinda like the Jaqspur , huh?” Her partners had stopped when she had but simply looked to each other in confusion when she poke an unknown word. Always the bolder of the two, Mirri spoke up.
“What exactly is a, uh, Jakspar?” She winced when she minced the word but it was clear her Bosmer love didn’t get upset. The smallest of the group laughed lightly before smiling at the brunette, “A Jaqspur is a really good long-distance archer. Usually a defence for the villages and tribes in Valenwood but they can also be hunters. I suppose we both fit that bill Mirri.” She explained with a smile, her blue eyes glittering with amusement and love for her home. Mirri grinned brightly before nudging Bastian with an elbow, “Sorry Dear but you can’t be one with us.” The redheaded man laughed in good nature, simply shrugging his shoulders.
“That's not a big issue for me, I prefer being a healer.” His smile fell a tiny bit seeing the far-away look in the other redhead but a gentle hand on her shoulder had the Bosmer looking back at them with a sheepish smile, “Sorry, I was just thinking about things. Mainly other words and stuff we’ve all said or heard. I’m really curious about them and what they mean since no one ever thinks to explain.” She admitted, fiddling with the fingerless gloves she wore.
Mirri shifted how she stood and thought about it as well, “Hmm, that’s a good point. I know I tend to call you both Sera but I never told you what it means.” She felt her face flush a bit and hesitated, “Technically I shouldn’t be using it on you since you two aren’t Dunmer but basically it’s a greeting. Though obviously, that doesn’t stop people from using it as a way to address someone. A Muthsera is a very important or respected person, so that explains why you’ve been called it before Wy.” The woman in question nodded with an interested expression.
“What about S’wit? You’ve called opponents that.”
“It means Slack Wit.” Both redheads nodded in understanding.
Many months later it would be seen that all three had started using more and more terms and phrases of the others’ languages and while sometimes others just didn’t understand, it brought amused reactions out of their families.
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In the Fourth Era, a home was lit up with candles and conversation, the occupants cheering and laughing after the return of one of their own. The three children were running around and playing with the family pet while the adults either danced or sat around listing to the bard play on his lute. The two that were currently sitting were husband and wife and were relishing in being back together after they were unsure about the wife’s return. The woman, an average height Bosmer with the soul of dragons, laid her head on her Dunmer husband’s shoulder and sighed happily, soft lips parting to sigh, “ Ahd tandanya nah calahn .” Though he had no idea what she said, the tone told him it was good so he simply chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around his dear wife and was about to ask her what she said quietly, but it seemed he- their imperial friend beat him to it.
“Oooh, what does that mean, Ellie?” Lucien asked, eyes sparkling with the idea of possibly learning something in a new language. The Dragonborn, being so kind, smiled at her friend and also at the others who were in her home, “It means ‘I love my family’. And when I say family I mean all of you.” The admission got several happy sounds from her friends, each man wearing fond looks on their faces while the children grinned happily at their mother (and friend).
“Papa, papa! How do you say that in your language?” Lucia asked, going up to her parents to hold onto Revyn’s sleeve. The man smiled and got a far-away look in his eyes as he thought back on his old home and life before the Red Mountain incident. “ Os daelha yi merser. ” The imperial girl grinned and tried to repeat the words but her mouth struggled on the sounds. Her brother however simply looked at their mother and tilted his head, his face showing his thoughts clear as day.
“Yes Blaise?”
“It’s just that you call Lucia and I names, but you never told us what they are or mean.” Elruin nodded and smiled more, “Well all you had to do was ask! For you I call you Bela and Balaan . Bela is Bosmeris for Strong and Balaan is Dovahzul for Worthy.” She gently tweaked his nose between her fingers before cupping the face of Lucia, “and for Lucia, I call her Aga and Fariik which are Bosmeris for Wise and Dovah for Precious. Because you both are so worthy of the world and everything good in it and are both so precious to your father and I. The other two names shouldn’t be any surprise either.” She smiled. Both kids beamed at her before looking at their father expectantly. Revyn folded under their stares with a twinkle in his ruby eyes, “The names I call you have the same same meaning as your Bosmeris nicknames, sorry.” He answered with mock remorse. Blaise’s face scrunched up, “So Jubu means the same as Bela ? But they sound so different!”
“Yeah! Melu sounds waaaaay different than Aga .” Lucia commented, arms crossed. Revyn scratched the back of his neck at that name, “Actually, Lucia, the full word is Opumelu . I just shortened it down.” The admission made his wife and any of their friends who were listening in on the conversation to laugh, and even more so when the little girl cried out
“THAT’S WHY AUNTIE IDESA LAUGHS WHEN YOU SAY IT!”
Years from then, when all the children were grown and on their own, they’d think back on those nicknames and smile. Both of the children’s names fit perfectly and when Khash was eventually adopted as well she was given names that fit her just as perfectly by her new parents. It seemed being raised with both Bosmeris and Dunmeri being spoken so often around their homes imprinted on the three and it was no unheard of for anyone talking to them being briefly confused by what they were saying. When asked where they learned, they always grinned and explained their parents.