Between hunting and maintaining regulations, the Volturi House were long-term enthusiasts for chess.
They'd spend entire afternoons challenging each other's wits, sometimes their entertaining tournaments spread out into a full week or so before there would be an obvious champion determined among them.
The watchers typically played winners, whilst any newcomer would replay the losers.
And around and around they went.
Aro, who stood across the room for now, was waiting silently and happily for his turn to play Caius next. He watched his fellow members settled in at their own little private tables placed throughout the grand drawing room.
But a rather curious sight had snagged his attention, and it made him wonder why he hadn't bothered to question it before...
While the rest of the usual gamers were staring at their boards and moved their knights and bishops with deep thought and concentration, the twins sitting in the far corner were simply looking at each other instead.
Everyone knew the twins always started off playing against each other firstly, and they were always the pair who took the longest to actually finish a chess match, if they ever finished at all really.
Aro had honestly assumed, like with everything else, they were just that skilled in chess. Thus in result, it was difficult for one twin to mentally best the other.
Although, he noticed the truth of it now—they didn't seem to be interested in playing the game whatsoever. They started seven hours ago, and their pieces had been scarcely touched or altered.
What in the heavens were they thinking?
Aro almost followed the sudden urge to confront the twins about their lack of effort invested in the family's quality time together...but then again, the longer he continued to study them, the more subtle details during their progress began to seep through.
Another four minutes passed with Jane simply wearing the same content expression as Alec, using her hands to occasionally smooth out her blonde curls or to point over at Felix, who was apparently struggling to keep his black king out of check—using her delicate hands for practically anything but shifting her own pieces forward.
Alec's lips curled slightly without sound, finding something amusing about his sister's quiet gesture, proving just how deep their level of communication ran.
They were acting as if they were existing in another separate space, a place was all their own.
Eventually though, they both glanced down at their board, and Jane had actually slid her first white pawn up two spaces. And from the looks of it, Alec mirrored her. This unknown phenomena carried on about another ten moves or so. Whatever Jane decided to do, Alec copied her exactly; the same measurements were taken, the same pieces were relocated.
Then the idea behind it finally hit Aro. And in awe and simmering admiration, he smiled a little to himself.
The twins never had planned to play against each other. No, they in truth, they worked with each other as equals. After all, that's the way they have always operated.
I should've known, Aro thought, besides...the only person they refused using their powers against was, of course, each other.