Work Text:
The knight moves in strange patterns: wild bucking bronco of the western frontier; chivalrous chauvinist, held to an old code only he knows. Unflinching, fierce, but destined to trample any who would risk drawing near.
The rook moves rank and file: he absconds to far away lands without so much as a second glance, quick to trade places when pressed—a trick that works only once.
The queen, in theory, is free: any square along any path is hers, should other hearts allow. But she’s still bound to the board in the end.
The game is never hers to win.