Something for a chess enthusiast by a chess enthusiast. This is basically character analysis and an excuse for me to ramble about chess- try to guess who was black and who was white in the game between the Holmes boys ;) And this is second person.
Disclaimer.
You look at him and you don't see all that much. A person rolled up on the couch like a child, snoring slightly with the blanket crumpled in his arms, the rest neatly draped over and hanging off of his back and the edge of the couch, leaving his feet open to the cold. Your computer, a rather old model, but more like a friend than anything else that you just cannot bear to part with, is getting so hot that it slightly burns your leg, but you keep sitting in the large, comfortable chair.
Observation. Let's play that, eh?
Chess. There is a chessboard on the table; this is the modern-day alternative of jousting tournaments, you think. The pawns are well-developed on both sides, but the white has kept more of them, while the black has let more pawns go, yet reluctant to part with the knight on f6, as it seems. Sherlock said something once about chess, what was it…? Ah, yes, the game, though somewhat ludicrous in some rules, such as en passant, is ridiculously accurate in regards to life. Think about it, John. Maybe we'll play someday.
When you do think about it, the pawns are much stronger than most other pieces; they have their strength in numbers and in the promise of advance. They are worth the least numerically and yet they pave the way for strategy, becoming an integral part of the game very quickly; they are the Andersons and Donovans of chess, because they can spread ideas and move up of their own volition.
Are you a pawn? Not exactly, you decide (though you aren't sure if it is true, or you just do not want to be associated with either Sally or Phillip), and keep looking at the board.
Rooks. They are dependable and are limited in their movement, yet are essential to victory. The black and white sides both had good development of those, and yet the white rooks seemed to be in slightly more advantageous position, or at least it seems so to you. Lestrade's a rook; also limited by rules that he agrees to adhere to, he is essential for the system to work, essential to Sherlock (as wont as he may be to admit).
Knights. You've always called them "horsies" out of some type of juvenile impulse left over from brief experiences with the game in childhood; unfortunately, Harry was never one to play, and your parents never had time. Knights are the epitome of camaraderie and chivalry- they are the only pieces that can jump and move in a complicated, yet interesting manner. Hmm, this takes some thought, but you decide that knights are people like Mrs. Hudson and Molly. Why? Because they participate in great things, do great things, and yet it all isn't truly for them. It isn't their role to play, and yet their influence ends up being immense, their loyalty even more so. The white has let his knights progress equally on both sides, while the black has one that his soon to be threatened, the other gone.
Bishop. That's Mycroft. Surely, perfectly, it's like he was made for it. Meandering through the alleys of power, using all of his wit for the world because there's too much for him alone- it overflows and he is both alone and lonely because of it. He is the one close to the nominal king, and yet being the real ruler, the one with power greater than much other. A bishop.
Queen. You think for a second, and decide that Sherlock must be the queen, for he is the most agile of all, able to get anywhere and everywhere, willing to do anything and everything to get what he wants. What does he want? Most of the time, it's stimulation, and you follow because you are similar in that sense, you and he. His mind works at insane speeds, the gears turning, turning, turning, and leaving everyone in the dust, including you, and yet you follow because this person, when he chooses to trust, is amazing. And the queen, though nominally not of much power, is actually quite amazing too.
The white queen was facing off with both black bishops. Curious. You couldn't tell whose position was more advantageous, though. Pity.
King. The king is simultaneously the most useless and the most important piece of the entire game, a type of Schrödinger-esque conflict arising with the assigning of personalities. You look over at your friend who is still sniffling there on the couch, his back to you and unruly curls sticking to the pillow and his neck. Maybe it's you. You are essentially useless in this entire endeavour; your expertise is not all that great, and yet without you, all of this that surrounds you acquires a much more sombre feel and darker light. Without you, this whole game becomes simultaneously a lot more serious and a lot more like a farce.
Maybe the king is simply the linchpin, that's what makes him so important.
Maybe you're like that, too.
You put the chess pieces all in their proper place, not even bothering to remember where they all were originally or to look at their positions in regards to the king himself. You dismiss this association with yourself as a wild and slightly self-indulgent thought, and yet an aftertaste remains somewhere in the back of your mind. Your companion stirs and slowly sits up, rubbing his face with his hands and flexing the sore joints of his fingers and toes. He immediately looks at the chaos-ridden table and sees the board. Turning it so that he is white, he smiles and moves his pawn forward.
"Your move," he says, mussing up his hair to get it out of his eyes while he waits.
And guess what? This time, you go.
Not my favourite of what I've written, just a one-shot. Leave a review. I'd love that.
Until next time.