Hi all! I've been debating getting back into writing Finchel stories through this fic. I hope many of the people with me on my other story (that I promise I am still writing) join me for this one. But most of all... I hope you like this as much as I do. Thanks, as always, for joining me on this adventure :)
"Father, there has to be another way! Let me stay. Let me help you!" Rachel begged, clutching at her father's armor-clad arm as he shook his head no.
"There's no time for this, Rachel. You have to go. Now." her father barked, sweeping his only child beneath one strong arm as he propelled her out the door and down the stone steps to the courtyard. Rachel struggled to keep pace with his longer strides, her tear-stained cheek resting against the cool metal of his breastplate. She could hardly see her feet in the utter darkness, but occasionally the light of the moon illuminated one of the royal banners hanging from the walls, throwing a soft glow onto her path.
A plain white background, emblazoned with a brilliant golden star in the center. A celestial being, a promise of radiance and beauty. A symbol of light in the utter darkness of the night sky. The emblem of their kingdom, and memories of a happy and peaceful reign. Until now. Until the rumblings of rebellion had begun in Carmel a year ago, spurring angry mobs that soon became entire battalions. Battalions that were now encamped just beyond the castle walls, awaiting dawn for war to be raged.
No more peace talks. No more sanctions from the royal council. No more skirmishes between border troops. It would be full-scale war and bloodshed, and only one man would emerge as King – either Rachel's father, or the leader of the Carmel forces.
"We will send for you when it's safe…" he promised, brushing the nearby page boy aside so he could personally hoist his daughter into her saddle. He checked her stirrups, knowing they were perfect. They were always perfect. But there was nothing beyond this simple act he could do to ensure her safety. Even if she succeeded in her desperate escape, remaining hidden from the enemy until the war was won would be easier said than done. And they all knew it.
"If it's safe." Rachel reminded him anxiously, shaking hands gripping the reins so tight her fingers turned white. Even despite the high walls, the ever-present wind carried the sound of the approaching army every time it blew. Swords clanging, men laughing. The specter of death and destruction hung heavy in the air.
"… If." The King agreed with a sad smile, brushing Rachel's hair out of her face. She attempted to memorize every inch of his face while he stood there. Every wrinkle on his skin the portraits didn't show, the twinkle in his eyes they could never capture. The way his dark brown hair had faded to a gentle grey at the temples over the years. How he squinted to study her without his glasses; glasses only her mother, his most trusted advisor Sir Leroy, and she knew about. It wasn't kingly to wear glasses, he'd said.
Right now, Rachel was wishing very much that her father was no king at all.
"Now, mind your manners. Do as you're told, no matter the task. You must not allow anyone to suspect who you really are. The Lady of the House promises her protection and her silence. But you must not give yourself away to the others. We cannot risk the exposure of your location." Her mother reminded her, placing a comforting hand against the rough spun wool of Rachel's new, humble country dress. Rachel nodded, not even bothering to wipe the tears from her eyes anymore.
Queen Shelby nodded, satisfied that her daughter would honor her promises, before removing her hand and stepping back to join the King.
"God bless and keep you, Princess Rachel." Her father offered in a soft voice, and Rachel bowed her head in acknowledgement. Silent tears slipped from her cheeks onto her dress, blotting the ugly tan fabric with wet splotches. She covered it with her black riding cloak, now blending in completely with the night. She placed one hand over her ornate gold star necklace, clutching her last lifeline in this horrible tempest that had swept into the castle, before tucking the royal symbol safely inside her dress, away from view.
"Be safe. I'll … I will see you soon." Rachel said as confidently as she could, taking a deep breath in an attempt to force her tears to stop. But the sadness of the royal family could not be tamed, only moved from one sufferer to the next. As her daughter stopped, the mother began. Queen Shelby turned away from the sight of their desperate act to save their daughter from the impending danger, clutching a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound of her sobs.
"Go!" King Hiram barked at her two escorts, and with a small, urging kick to the side of her horse, they were off. Once they cleared the gates, the small party spurred the horses to top speed, not daring to risk even a minute for fear they'd be discovered. The horse's great muscles flexed and released underneath Rachel's legs as they practically flew across the familiar path towards the woods, the thundering of hooves and heartbeats carrying them away into the night.
Rachel didn't turn until they were safely into the cover of the trees to glance back at her home. Even then, it was only for a moment. Not a single fire burned in the castle tonight; they'd all been doused to cover her escape. None of the warmth she remembered from her happy childhood, no sign of the people that still lived there. Just cold stone and iron. Rachel shivered, despite the warm spring air, but forced herself to turn her gaze back to the road. To the back of her dear friend Kurt who rode ahead of her, and listening to the reassuring thumps of the hooves of Mike's horse behind her.
If she was being forced to flee, at least she had Kurt and Mike at her side. Two sons of high-ranking nobles at court, they'd been her reluctant but obligated playmates in childhood. Kurt and Mike would often (and loudly) complain about how bossy she was during games, or how selfish she could be. They'd attempt to avoid her at every event, only to be forced to sit at her side and do as she wished.
But over time, as they grew into their teenage years, the two boys had developed a fondness for her. Despite the difference in their rank, they'd begun to relate to each other more as siblings than friends. Rachel would force both of them to follow along with her ideas for masquerades and performances at court, where she was always the star, no matter their objections. Kurt would pinch her, subtly, every time her opinions or actions went too far and risked a scandal. Mike would whisk her away onto the dance floor when she began to dig herself a hole in conversations.
They were her constant companions. They made her a better person. A real princess. So while she couldn't stand to leave her home, she took small comfort in having them with her as they raced through the dark trees and into the unknown. Towards their new home, for the time being.
Towards a place called McKinley Manor.
"Heaven help us. She's here." Quinn sighed with annoyance as three horses appeared over the horizon. She angrily pushed the curtains aside, turning to face Finn with a pleading look. "Why does you mother have to accommodate some poor, pathetic orphan anyways? It's not like there aren't places for wretched people like her to go."
Lady Quinn Fabray had always been beautiful, ever since they were children. With her soft features and blonde hair, she'd been every child's favorite playmate. When they had grown, she'd been the object of every local man's affection. She was the May Day Queen every year at the festival, and a never-ending line of suitors practically bombarded the Fabray household to ask for her hand in marriage once she was of age.
And when Finn's father had died during the war, making him the new Lord of McKinley, Quinn's attention had turned solely to him. He knew it was about his title, not because she wanted him per say. Not that he minded, of course. He'd always wanted her, just like everyone else. Quinn was beautiful, intelligent but obedient, and wealthy. The picture of a perfect wife. What else was there to want in life? What else could he ever need?
A safe, stable life. A predictable wife, a good title, and the Manor.
Finn had yet to actually propose marriage to Quinn, but all their friends and acquaintances knew it was only a matter of time. They were practically engaged as it was, with Quinn spending all her free time at McKinley Manor with him and their friends.
"My mother says the girl's father fought with mine. He'd want us to take her in." Finn offered by way of explanation, edging past Quinn to try and get a look at the new girl for himself. The riding party was still far away, but approaching at a fast pace down the main road.
He found himself surprised at the apparent skill of the female rider. Quinn could (or would) never ride beyond a gallop's pace, declaring it unseemly to move any faster, and her ladies Santana and Brittany wouldn't even approach a horse. Santana announced the rough leather of the reins chaffed her perfect hands, while Brittany was too afraid of being kicked by one to even enter the stables.
But this new girl was keeping pace with her male companions as they practically flew down the road, expertly steering her mare around every divot and ditch in their path. She looked almost wild, with her hair flying loose behind her and skirts billowing in the breeze her speed created. He'd never seen anything like it.
"Well it's fine by me. Always happy to welcome a new lady to McKinley Manor." Puck said, appearing at Finn's shoulder to watch the arrival as well.
Noah Puckerman had been Finn's right hand man ever since they were children. First as playmates, now as brothers in arms. They'd been pages together, then squires together. Now knights together, riding shoulder to shoulder. Yes, Puck could be … less than chivalrous when he wanted to be. Which was often. Which was always, really. But there was not a man in the kingdom that Finn trusted more, and his friend had always been at his side when he was needed. It didn't matter the cause, the issue, the reason; Puck was his right hand, no matter what.
"Who would be interested in your kind of welcome, Puckerman?" Santana asked from the corner where she'd been playing chess with Brittany. Or rather, Santana had been playing and then offering Brittany suggestions for moves of her own, since Brittany had always lacked the ability to even remotely understand the game.
Finn was sure he wasn't the only one to notice that Santana always let Brittany win.
"Only the most refined women in the country, Santana. No wonder it has never worked on you." He retorted, stepping back from the window to offer the two would-be chess players his arms. "Come on, ladies. We better go down and play nice with the new girl."
Santana rolled her eyes, but stood from the board and took his right arm, while Brittany took the left. He led the women out of the room and down the hall, only turning his head at the last moment. "Come on, you two. Your mother will be expecting all of us."
Finn was still watching the girl approaching on the road, beginning to take in her features as she at last slowed and approached the Manor itself. She was short, compared to the other women in his life. Probably no taller than his mother. But by no means was she small. There was something about her posture as she rode through the front gates, the straight set of her shoulders and steadiness of her grip on the reins that made her look formidable. Powerful, certain.
As the horse finally came to a stop in the courtyard outside, the female rider glanced up at the Manor house. She caught his eye almost immediately, having been drawn to the open window. Big, deep brown eyes seemed to stare into his very soul and Finn found himself frozen to the spot. The late afternoon breeze caught her wavy brown hair and blew it from her face, exposing her high cheekbones and olive skin tone. The exhilaration of the fast ride was still clear on her cheeks, making them a lovely shade of pink while her chest heaved in an effort to catch her breath.
The girl tilted her head questioningly, a small smile beginning to form on her full, pink lips as she continued to hold his gaze.
"Finn? What are you doing?" Quinn asked haughtily from his side, tugging at his right arm. With his focus entirely on the new girl, he lost his balance and tumbled away from the window and into Quinn's arms. Her annoyance buried for the moment under her satisfaction at their physical proximity, Quinn possessively looped her arm around his and led him out the door, down the grand staircase and out into the courtyard.
They arrived just as the girl was being helped from her saddle by her companions, her back to the group while she slid to the ground and removed her traveling cloak. When she turned, it was as if she had sucked all the air from the garden.
The sunlight caught her eyes, making them shine with intelligence and warmth. Though she was short, the sheer power she exuded made even Santana take a small step backwards in surprise. He felt Quinn's hand on his arm turn into vice grip, drawing him closer, clearly marking her territory.
To Finn's surprise, she didn't immediately address him. Rather she turned to his mother, curtseying gracefully in a sign of respect. And then, she spoke.
"Lady Hudson. Thank you so much for your gracious hospitality. Your kindness towards me will never be forgotten."
Her voice was like clear bells, playing a beautiful song in the churchyard. They lilted across the breeze, sending shivers down his spine. He did his best to hide it from Quinn, but there wasn't much he could do with her standing so close.
Finn's mother stepped forward from their unofficial welcome party immediately, reaching out her hands to the new girl. The girl took them both gratefully, squeezing tight as she smiled. A smile that warmed Finn to his absolute backbone to witness, causing him to shift his weight uncomfortably and clear his throat. Quinn shot him a nasty glare from the corner of her eye, having clearly had enough of his reactions to the new arrival, but didn't dare speak to him as the scene unfolded.
"Oh, my dear. You are most welcome in this house. Any child of my late husband's dearest friend will always be safe in this house." Lady Hudson assured her, an unspoken acknowledgement passing between the two women that Finn couldn't even begin to understand. It was only then that the strange, new girl released his mother's hands and turned towards Finn and his group of friends.
"May I present my son, the Lord of McKinley, Finn Hudson. And the Lady Quinn Fabray." Lady Hudson offered, gesturing to the would-be happy couple. The girl curtsied again to the both of them, dipping her head just slightly, before rising. "Finn and Quinn, this is Rachel."
"Just Rachel? No last name? No title?" Quinn asked, sickeningly sweet judgment practically dripping visibly from her lips.
"No, my lady. I'm just … Rachel." She said with a shake of her head, demurely clasping her hands in front of her waist.
"How… quaint." Quinn practically laughed, turning up her nose and relaxing her grip on Finn's arm, perceiving the threat to be neutralized.
But Finn hadn't taken his eyes off of her. Rachel. He merely stood there like the village idiot, smiling softly at her, taking her all in. Her dress was indeed plain, that of the local peasants, nothing at all remarkable to behold. But it was her in the dress that enraptured him. It was modestly cut, unlike Quinn's red satin dress that prominently displayed her small waist and larger bust. But despite the coverage, Rachel still looked … absolutely beautiful. She seemed to be lit from within, by fire or heaven's light he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he couldn't bare to look away from her.
"These are my ladies, Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce." Quinn offered, subtly stomping on Finn's foot to get his attention while the duo behind them reluctantly curtsied in acknowledgement of their new guest.
Having been brought back to reality by the physical pain, Finn blinked rapidly, cleared his throat again, and used his free hand to gesture at Puck. "And this is my good friend, Sir Noah Puckerman."
Puck, the slimy bastard, actually winked at Rachel. "It's a pleasure…" he said, bowing his head. Finn made a mental note to knock him firmly on his ass for that the next time they sparred together.
If the tone of the introduction had bothered her, Rachel didn't show it. She merely turned to gesture to the two men who had rode in with her. Finn looked at them for the first time; they couldn't be more different if they'd tried. One tall, one short. One with graceful features, the other more boyish. One clearly poised to speak his mind, the other with no visible desire to speak at all.
All together, the trio looked more like a band of strangers forced together by circumstance than actual friends. How could it be otherwise? How could such a diverse group … ever actually be together? Get along, or even like each other? Have one understanding, a mutual path in life?
"These are my companions. Kurt and Mike." She introduced. Again, no last names. No titles. It was as if the threesome was a group of ghosts, with no home, no family and no history to trace. Mysteries, it seemed, to everyone but his mother.
"I'm sure my son and his friend would be happy to show you all to your rooms. Ladies, would you assist me in preparing the tea? You all must be hungry after such a long journey." Lady Hudson smiled, not taking no for an answer as she swept back into the house.
Quinn huffed, but wouldn't dare to deny the woman she clearly wished to have as a mother in law. Before she left, she pressed up onto her toes to kiss Finn's cheek goodbye, all the while staring down their new guest. Finn's eyes were as wide as dinner plates, breath caught in his throat at the sensation. His expression didn't change as Quinn released his arm and led Santana and Brittany back into the house.
Now free of the ladies, Puck immediately leapt at the opportunity to prove his strength, assisting Kurt and Mike with the bags on the horses. This left a wildly flustered Finn and the new girl Rachel alone in the middle of the courtyard.
Cheeks stinging red in embarrassment at Quinn's boldness, he was about to turn to Rachel to apologize before he heard it. Soft, sweet laughter. Rachel was laughing.
"Oh dear, I think she likes you. Or rather, I think she dislikes me already." Rachel giggled, shaking her head. Finn let out an awkward attempt at a laugh, his hand rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.
"Quinn can be… well. Quinn." Finn gave up, shrugging his shoulders. He was relieved to see Rachel still smiling at him, even if some part of her mirth didn't quite reach her eyes. There was a sadness there, a loss. Of course there was. She'd suffered a terrible loss recently. Why else would she be here? He was such an idiot.
Finn frowned, bowing to her like he should've done when they were introduced, mentally kicking himself for not thinking of it before. "You have nothing to fear from her. You're welcome here as long as you like."
"There's…no need to bow to me. I'm … I'm no one special." Rachel insisted, lowering her eyes to the ground as her hands knotted in the fabric of her dress.
"I doubt that." Finn said immediately, prompting Rachel's eyebrows to arch in surprise … and alarm? No, that couldn't be it. Finn coughed, searching for any explanation to his words that didn't involve how captivating he found her. "Anyone my mother receives that warmly must be someone." He settled on, smiling reassuringly at the newest member of the household.
Rachel seemed to relax at that, smiling again at him in return. "Your mother is very kind. She's been a good friend to my family. As I hope to be to hers." She replied, glancing past him at the manor house.
"Let me show you to your rooms, Ms…" Finn trailed off, having forgotten her lack of a last name. His cheeks flushed a brand new shade of red, mortified at his seemingly endless supply of social faux pas. He was not cool or suave like Puck was, but he could usually at least manage to be normal in front of women. But not today. Not with her.
"Rachel. Just call me Rachel." She repeated again, reassuring him with a small smile and a nod.
"Then I have to insist you call me Finn in return." He prompted, extending an arm for her to take. She reached up her slender hands and took it, her touch gentle and warm. And yet he felt that from it, he could draw enough strength to slay any army. Even the formidable one that threatened the King and his castle as they spoke.
"Alright then. Finn…"