Chapter Text
Usually, Pityo loved to dance.
He loved to dance with his mother in her studio, he loved to dance in their bedroom while his brother sang, he loved to dance at the great, glittering galas in Tirion, he loved to dance over the late-day grass on the way home from a hunt. Most of all, Pityo loved to dance with Telvo, who he always pranced and jumped and glided in perfect step with. It had been that way all their lives.
But now, but right now?
He could not make himself move, and he hated how Telvo danced.
Pityo’s brows furrowed and he wasn’t even sure why as he watched Telvo twirl with that girl, who he didn’t know the name of. There was a strange tightness in his chest, an unpleasant stirring in his stomach, and it was equal parts something nasty of his own and something light and fluttering of Telvo’s.
Both sensations were unpleasant.
Telvo was smiling, blushing, but his feet were stumbling. He kept leaning in closer, and every time Pityo’s heart beat faster, and he didn’t know why. He knew it was Telvo, that he was feeling the echoes of whatever afflicted his twin, but what was it? Pityo had never not known before.
He clenched his fists, frustration rattling him, and Telvo looked over. But because he had no answers, Pityo looked away.
Taking a deep breath, Pityo tried to make whatever he was feeling stop. He couldn’t control Telvo’s emotions, but that angry sensation was his, he could feel it steaming and bubbling inside. Best to put a lid on it, so that it didn’t ruin Telvo’s good mood.
When Telvo’s eyes left him again, Pityo made a beeline for Nolyawen.
She was by the sandwiches that had been set out, and Pityo didn’t wait for her to stop chewing when he grabbed her hand and yanked.
“Dance with me!” he said, already dragging her onto the floor.
Nolyawen made a loud noise around her stuffed cheeks, but once he twirled her around and she swallowed, she matched the rhythm. Pityo led, and Nolyawen followed. He danced slower than he would with Telvo, but Nolyawen was always good at picking up cues, she wasn’t totally infuriating. They liked her better than most.
Mother said they had to be nicer to the slower ones, they had to learn to communicate with outsiders, that no one else could read their minds and that wasn’t a crime.
Right now, Pityo wished he couldn’t read Telvo’s mind.
As he danced with Nolyawen, his head was across the floor, inside Telvo’s feet, tracing his steps, tasting that odd reaction inside him. Valar, why did it make his skin crawl? Telvo’s skin was alight with goosebumps too, but he seemed to enjoy it.
Pityo almost wanted a bath.
Telvo laughed loudly, and Pityo felt the same heat his twin was feeling wash down him. He snapped his head over towards Telvo and the girl, and they twirled right past him, moving through the same steps. And then they were gone, and Pityo barely felt Nolyawen squeeze his hands tightly.
He’d almost forgotten she was there, and he was about to apologize when he saw the teasing smile on her lips.
“Are you jealous?” Nolyawen asked, and Pityo gaped.
Jealous? Was he jealous? Ambarussa had been jealous before, of the bow Tyelkormo got for his begetting day, of the way Macalaurë rode on horseback, of how Father spoke to Curufinwë. Pityo had never been jealous of Telvo before. He didn’t think he was now.
The last thing he wanted was to be Telvo right now.
With a disgusted scoff, he shook his head, but Nolyawen just giggled.
“I should have guessed that the two of you would even have a crush on the same girl.”
“I do not!” Pityo snapped, and his face went crimson.
He felt almost ill that Nolyawen would think such a thing, and beneath that… panic. He didn’t, he didn’t like that girl, whoever she was, he didn’t even know her name! Why would Nolyawen think that? How could Nolyawen think that? Why… why was he so upset she thought that, now Telvo was asking if he was okay.
Pityo was fine!
I’m fine!
And privately he thought, go back to your girl.
“Is- is that what Telvo’s feeling?” he stuttered, his feet tripping, feeling so off beat. Was that a crush? Pityo didn’t like it.
“Oh,” Nolyawen said, and she stepped forward into his face, making Pityo take one back, and just like that she was leading. She slowed their pace down, and it was different from whatever Telvo was dancing, but Pityo was glad. It made it easier to breathe. After the initial step, Nolyawen had given him his space back, and now they were drifting on the edge in gentle, soothing circles.
“Are you jealous of her?” Nolyawen asked.
Pityo blinked.
“Am I?” Normally he would ask Telvo, but… “I’ve never- I don’t know- Is this normal? Am I weird, or-“
“When my sister got married I was near bursting with jealousy,” Nolyawen said, her eyes wide and earnest. “I was so angry that she was being stolen, that she was moving away, that she wanted to talk to stupid Norindhil instead of me. I got over it though because he makes her happy. So, don’t worry. I wouldn’t call you normal, Ambarussa, but being jealous isn’t weird. Just don’t be a dick about it, okay?”
Something about the balloon of relief popping in his chest and Nolyawen- with her rosy, chipmunk cheeks and doe eyes and little kid braids- saying ‘dick’ made Piyo burst out laughing.
He sniffed after the first laugh, though, feeling a little better but still unsteady. He wanted to move. He needed to speed this up, and get back in rhythm with Telvo.
Pityo took the lead of their dance again, and let his brother’s song carry his feet. There was still that odd fluttering, fidgeting, flushing there that Pityo didn’t like. He supposed that was the crush that just wasn’t his. He’d never not shared something with Telvo before, but he didn’t like the tempo of this dance.
All at once, seized by the need to change something before he got too upset again, Pityo changed direction. He let his and Nolyawen’s steps mirror, but ultimately go in a different direction from Telvo’s. It felt strange, like tasting something new and vivid, but it also took some pressure off Pityo’s chest.
He breathed out slowly, and kept up the opposite dance.
“Should I tell him?” he asked, and Nolyawen tilted her head.
“That you were jealous? Shouldn’t he already know? Aren’t you always in each other’s heads?”
“Yes, but, no, this is… I think he knows something’s wrong but not what. This is mine, like- like the… crush is his. I don’t understand him and he’s not understanding me, and I don’t know what to-”
“Ooohhhh, so you have to explain it to him. Have you never done that before?”
“Never,” Ambarussa said. Never had he needed to explain anything to his twin. Never before had he felt like they needed two different names, two different dances, different words to communicate a thought.
Nolyawen gave a sagely nod.
“Well, explaining stuff to people can be hard, but you need to be clear and honest. And don’t get all huffy! Or frustrated! Use your words. Or your feet! Sometimes the body can explain as well as our words. For example, I’m about to explain to you that-”
Nolyawen suddenly leaned back and yanked on his hands, pulling Pityo into a spin with a shriek. He yelled and laughed with her, and they twirled all the way over to the food table. He understood her perfectly.
Maybe he could dance to try and make Telvo understand later, and understand in turn.
Or maybe… Pityo turned to look at the dance floor and instantly found Telvo’s wide eyes.
Maybe his earlier dance had already let Ambarussa understand.