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“Calm yourself, your heartbeat is fast.” His sister almost whispers, palm pressed flat against the second son of Toruk Makto’s chest. Aonung’s mouth twitches downwards, annoyed not because his sister is so friendly with this boy, but because he feels as this is a private moment. It is as if Tsireya and Lo’ak are in their own world, one he is not welcome to follow them into. Not that he would ever want to, but he doesn’t appreciate their over-friendliness, Tsireya’s sudden willingness to trust the boy.
The eldest, Neteyam, catches his eye and offers a small, secret smile. The beads in his hair clink gently as he tilts his head, and Aonung snorts.
Silly children. His sister will get over her affection for this boy. She wouldn’t dare present a forest child to their father and ask for his blessing. Aonung will laugh at her when she gets over it and recognizes her foolishness.
Tsireya and Lo’ak have gone quiet now, staring silently into each other’s eyes. Tsireya’s hand is still on his chest. Aonung scowls and turns his attention to the other boy, looking him up and down.
“Well, tree boy, what about you?” His says, jutting his chin out. “Going to show me whether or not you can breathe? I mean, after 15 years you’d think you’d have mastered it by now.” He smirks, and their brief moment of shared laughter at their siblings melts.
Neteyam scowls, his shoulders tensing. When he looks like this, Aonung can’t help but think the boy closely resembles his mother, all narrowed eyes and sharp edges. The difference between them being that despite his family’s current predicament, Neteyam smiles a lot more often than she does.
The boy shakes off Aonungs teasing, straightening his spine and closing his eyes. He begins their exercise, breathing deeply, inhaling for 3 seconds, exhaling for 6. Inhale. Exhale. His chest rises and falls, and Aonung notes that his nose twitches comically when he begins to run out of air on his exhales.
He rolls his eyes, shuffling closer and roughly taking Neteyam’s hand.
“Stop. Your breathing is shallow, and your exhales are forced. Don’t think so hard, you overcomplicate things. Focus here. ” He says, placing Neteyam’s hand below his heart.
An expression of annoyance flashes across Neteyam’s face, but then, his posture visibly relaxes, and after a moment he takes a slow, deep breath. Aonung keeps his hand over Neteyam’s as he does so, feeling his body shift beneath him. His eyes drift from Neteyam’s chest as he breathes up to his face, his closed eyes, his slightly parted lips. He looks much more at ease than he did moments ago, and Aonung prides himself on his improvement.
A minute or so passes, and after one last long exhale, Neteyam’s eyes open and a grin splits his features.
“Was that right?” They both know damn well he did fine, but Aonung still stares at the other boy with a goofy smile on his face, remembering to nod after a few beats of silence. He realizes his hand is still pressed against Neteyam’s and he quickly withdraws, feeling silly. The point where his palm had touched Neteyam is warm.
“That was good. Perhaps you forest people will prove to be competent after all.”
Neteyam rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice behind it. He uncurls himself from his sitting position and stands up, offering a hand to Aonung.
“Come on. Your sister and Lo’ak have left us already. I would say we should go after them, but I don’t want to catch my baby brother making eyes at her any more than I already have to.”
Aonung laughs as he is pulled to his feet. His hand lingers against Neteyam’s for a moment longer than necessary.
“Yes, yes. They’re making fools of themselves, but it’ll make for a good laugh in a few years.” He shakes his head, taking a step closer to the edge of their spot. He inclines his head toward the water with an inviting gesture. “Well, come on then forest boy, let’s see if you can keep up.”
He dives into the water in a smooth arc, smiling to himself as he catches Neteyam leaping after him out of the corner of his eye.
The boy plummets through the water, eyes shut tight against the impact. Aonung watches thousands of tiny bubbles fly toward the surface in plumes as the water settles around them. Neteyam opens his eyes, cutting through the water towards him, much more gracefully than his brother. He cocks his head as if asking, What are we waiting for?
Aonung gestures for him to focus on his heart rate, to monitor his breath, and Neteyam nods in understanding. Aonung smiles and tugs on one of his braids affectionately before kicking off the sea floor and speeding off in the other direction. He hears a surprised exhale of bubbles behind him before Neteyam has sped off as well, and is hot on his tail.
Aonung knows he’ll win, but as they surface in shallow water and he watches Neteyam emerge from the sea, shaking the water from his hair, cheeks flushed from their race, he thinks that perhaps not all of these forest children are terrible.