(TM) 283. Speaking in tongues

[sonofgranite]

What languages do you speak?

"The squire has more Gaelic than you have English, my lad. A man who speaks only his cradle tongue can't cast aspersions at others."

"Don't be mistaking Gaelic for my first language, Donncha. Nor me for a lad."

Comments

[altitudeandwine]

It is a language of silk and stone, of ice and flame, that can sound like bird calls, rushing water and the ring of metal all at once.
Beautifully poetic!

Granted I occasionally got details of pronunciation wrong, not because of any lack in my learning, but because of the quicksilver way that human languages change and shift according to their use.
Great way of enhancing his exceptional age

Whatever language I speak; they understand me in their own tongue.
Beautiful! So connected and together. Is that canon?

You writing about communication, connection and mutual understanding makes me happy, my recluse.
Obviously I am overestimating the importance
*sends delicious chocolate anyway*

[sonofgranite]

*skwish*

Is that canon?

Oh yes, quite canon. In the chapter that finishes with that second quote, the local squire comes into the horse barn and speaks English to Ruairí and Donncha, but Ruairí can neither understand nor answer him. Later on he runs across the squire's son Toby out of doors, and Toby hears him as speaking English without any Gaelic accent at all.

[deadwhitemale]

Woo prompt! *gives two thumbs up* I like this one.

[sonofgranite]

Thankoo! *mwah* I need to get some plotty stuff going though. *plots*