Sophia sat in front of the fireplace, contemplating her next move.

"Impossible," She said, rubbing her forehead. Elsa patiently stared at the board, considering every move her adoptive daughter/niece could make, formulating which one she would most likely choose, then the various strategies and counters.

Chess was a game of choice, after all.

Sophia looked up at her guardian, "There's no right choice to make here," She declared. Elsa blinked slowly. This was part of the game, after all, "What should I do?"

The queen crossed her arms for a moment.

"Make a choice."

Sophia slumped her shoulders in depression, "Blah."

The queen giggled happily. That was the great thing about chess with Aunt Elsa; she was usually in a good mood playing it. She was in such a good mood that she conjured up an identical board, "Make your move, and we'll see how it plays out."

As it should so happen, there were really only two choices to make; sacrifice or retreat. On the ice board, Sophia chose the more radical of the two- sacrifice.

It didn't go very well. She made a wounded sound as Elsa trapped her king in a stalemate.

"Retreat it is."

The soft clicking of the pieces filled the air. Sophia stared over at the ice board, determined to learn from her mistake. She knew this was not the first one Elsa had made. There was a story about how the ice queen had hunted down her errant fiancée and played a particularly spicy round. To this day, she was incapable of using a queen to checkmate a king without blushing three shades of red, and giggling every time someone complained about lack of space between the pieces.

(For instance:

"How can I get out of check when your queen is within three spaces of my king?"

Elsa giggled and blushed, rolling her fingers into her mouth.)

"Checkmate in ten," Elsa announced. This signaled the end of the game. Sophia knew there was no point in continuing if Elsa was so certain it was over, "You made a mistake," She admonished her junior.

Sophia's eyebrow rose, much like her uncle, "Oh?"

Elsa replaced the pieces she had taken on the board, "The stalemate was the better option of the two. Sacrifice is sometimes necessary to achieve your goals."

Sophia grimaced, "How was I supposed to know how it would end?" Noticing the reproving glare, added amicably, "Isn't that what you did? Sacrifice?"

Elsa paused, frozen, "...yes."

Whether speaking of her time in her room, or her marriage to Hans, the two women were unsure.

"Was it the right move?"

Elsa paused, resting her hands on her stomach. Sophia was older now, and started to see the flaws of her guardians; her substitute father was a murderer and her mother was a bit neurotic. Anna was kind of mean sometimes, pointing out how her sister was gaining weight, and Kristoff was a bit thick. It made Sophia feel somewhat callous to think of those around her in such terms.

After an infinite pause, the queen answered, "Choices have to be made. Not making a choice is a choice, actually. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, but everyone must play. And there are always sacrifices."

Sophia decided to venture into dangerous waters, "Is that how Uncle Hans...?"

Elsa's eyes grew distant. She snapped her fingers, the ice pieces rolling into place. She then removed several black pawns, a rook, and both bishops, "This was Hans' board. These are the pieces he has had to play with. All his life he had to wheedle and manipulate, and trick his way in an attempt to play."

Sophia's eyes tried to figure out how anyone could ever manage with so little, "Did he have to sacrifice too?"

"Yes," Said Elsa, her hands over her heart and stomach. She had not been feeling well lately.

"How do I play?" The princess' hands went to her temple, trying to figure out a very complicated life at a very young age.

A firm, encouraging hand went to her shoulder, "Don't worry. I know you'll figure it out."

Sophia tried to smile, but looked back at her board. She fingered her black king, (Elsa always played as the white queen) then tipped him over. It was easier to knock him down than to admit she had lost him.

She would spend the rest of the night contemplating her next move.