The castle hadn't been this lively in years, at least as far as Quinn could remember. She was sure they were when the princess was born, but that had been almost twenty years ago, and there hadn't been much to celebrate in that time.

Nowadays, the high-ranking people spend most of the day stuck in conference rooms debating a course of action. That has also been going on for almost twenty years, with little success. Quinn wasn't ranked high enough to join the meetings, but she could gather the conversation topics: how to stop getting their asses kicked at every opportunity.

They'd been at war for almost as many years as Quinn had lived, and they continued to be pushed farther and farther back. Over a quarter of the infantry had been lost, and they were still losing.

Quinn's mother had died of an illness when Quinn was ten, and her father had been one of the pompous know-nothings stuck in meetings, at least until he'd had the bright idea to lead a group of knights in a sneak attack, and that had ended with a sword stuck in Russel Fabray's skull.

No loss.

Being an orphan wasn't unusual; Quinn was one of many who's mother had died, and one of even more who lost her a father to the war.

Quinn usually ate meals away from the crowd as she found the majority of them infuriating, and she was regretting not doing so tonight. She scowled as she pushed her vegetables around.

"Do you know anyone who's signed up yet?"

"Not yet."

"I heard Hudson is."

"Really? It's a wonder he can lace up his boots properly."

Was this whole thing really that interesting? Anyone barely saw the princess. For all they knew, she was going to use her guard as a dartboard and hang him from the flagpole for her own amusement. This entire thing was stupid, and an avenue the majority of the male population was using as an attempt to marry into royalty.

Quinn stabbed a piece of meat moodily. If Finn Hudson really was signing up for this thing, he'd have to out-dumb the competition. She'd once seen him buckle his armor on backward.

Maybe Chang would sign up. At least he wasn't likely to stab the princess (or himself) when he was fighting off attackers.

/

She'd never considered that they'd choose a woman, at least until Santana had come back to their shared quarters acting like she'd already been assigned the position.

"They'll be more worried you'll kill her before the enemy even has the opportunity," Quinn told her as Santana began shedding her light armor. "And I'd have to agree with them. I wouldn't trust you with anything I found valuable."

Santana scoffed. "They need someone capable. Someone that's not Finn Hudson. I have a temper, but you can't deny I'm good." She stabbed a dagger in Quinn's direction with a pointed look, but Quinn just stared evenly at her, unimpressed. "Why don't you sign up?"

"Why would I do that?" Quinn asked dryly. "I don't really fancy babysitting to actually doing something."

"But you're good, Fabray," Santana reasoned. "I would say even better than me, but then I'd have to kill you." She smirked, and Quinn rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at her face.

/

Quinn didn't sign up. She refused to budge on her stance that it would be an idiotic job. That is, until she had the misfortune to come across Finn Hudson in the courtyard attempting to charm a girl.

Now, Finn Hudson had never had a charming day in his life, at least as far as both Quinn and Santana were concerned. He had the charisma of a dead fish, and about as much in his head.

So with an exasperated shake of her head, Quinn decided to save the poor girl from Finn's likely floundering attempts at being charming.

"Don't you have a job to do, Hudson, or did you stab yourself again?" she drawled loudly.

Finn turned to her with a frown, obviously irritated he'd been interrupted, not that Quinn could find a shit to give. When he saw it was her, he sneered. "Oh, it's just you. And no, actually, I haven't, but thanks for your concern."

He lifted his head as if he'd somehow one-upped her, and maybe he really thought he had in his pea-sized brain. Quinn just blinked at him and wondered if it was really possible to be this stupid.

"'Just me'?" Quinn echoed with a raised eyebrow. "What makes you think you're above me in any way?"

Finn blinked and frowned down at her. "I have two fully working legs, in case you haven't noticed. So therefore, almost everyone here is better than you."

This time it was Quinn's turn to sneer. "You know, I originally intended to just ward you off from whatever poor girl you're harassing now, but if you want to make this personal, I'd be more than happy to stab you. You know, unless you'd rather do it yourself again."

"Fine then, Fabray," Finn snapped, and Quinn suspected the constipated look on his face was supposed to be one of anger. "After lunch in the front courtyard, if you can make it down the stairs."

And with one last sneer, Finn lumbered off with all the grace of a young bear cub.

When he was gone, Quinn let out a loud sigh and reached a hand up to scrub it through her hair. She glanced down at the girl Finn had been talking to. "He wasn't being too much of an ass, was he?"

She shrugged one shoulder with a slight smile. "Depends on the scale. Thank you, though; he was beginning to grate on my nerves."

The corner of Quinn's lip curled up. "Yeah, he has a tendency to do that." Quinn's smile faltered when the girl's eyes flickered down to her leg; she frowned and bit back on an exasperated noise. "Battle wound," she offered stiffly.

At the tone of her voice, the other girl looked appropriately abashed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean–" She snapped her jaw shut and paused before opening it again. "What's your name?"

"Quinn."

The girl smiled again, this one tinted with a bit of apology. "Well, Quinn, I'll be looking forward to watching you win this afternoon."

She smiled brightly and turned and walked away, leaving Quinn standing in the middle of the courtyard leaning on her walking stick and ignoring the usual pain in her calf.

/

There was already a crowd waiting in the front courtyard when Quinn arrived, and she ignored the loud whisperings when people caught sight of her. They'd been talking behind their hands about her for years; she was more than used to it by now.

People moved to let her pass, and she caught more than a few scathing looks. People respected Finn for whatever reason and were likely insulted that Hobblefoot had challenged him. If they wanted to put the shithead on a pedestal, then that was their mental deficit.

However, there were some who nodded as she passed and muttered words of encouragement, and Santana grinned at her as she reached the walled ring where she was planning to make a complete and utter ass out of Finn Hudson.

"You've attracted quite a crowd," Santana remarked as Quinn sat on the low wall with a slight grimace. "Everyone wants to see if the resident cripple can really beat the golden boy knight."

Quinn scowled and grumbled, "Isn't there anything else around here they could be doing? Choking on their own saliva, perhaps?"

She could practically hear Santana rolling her eyes, but the arrival of Finn caused a loud roar from the crowd that Quinn took as her cue to ignore Santana's existence.

"Did you get lost on your way down here or just not think I would show up?" Quinn asked with a slight sneer as Finn entered the ring.

He glared at her. "Are we gonna do this or not? I have a meeting with the kings after this about the guard assignment."

Quinn ignored the surge of anger at the mention of this idiot protecting the princess. As she stood up, she glanced up and spotted the girl that Finn had been harassing earlier, who smiled and gave a small wave when she caught Quinn's eye.

/

Mopping the floor with Finn didn't take much time or effort, and Quinn knew her leg was going to feel like hell in the morning but it was completely worth it to humiliate Finn in front of the majority of the castle's residents.

While Finn was laid out flat on his back, Quinn hobbled back over to where Santana was still sitting on the wall to retrieve her walking stick. She was confused to see Santana frowning.

"Did you know the princess was here?" she asked when Quinn shot her a confused look.

"No," Quinn grunted as she lifted her weight off her right leg. "Guess Finn won't be getting the job after all. Sounds like good enough cause for a celebration to me."

But Santana's frown didn't flicker. "And now she's coming this way, and I really don't think she wants to talk to me."

Now Quinn was frowning. She craned her neck around to see the girl from earlier headed her way.

Wait. Hold up.

"You're the princess?" Quinn spluttered, knowing she probably looked like a complete and utter moron right now with her jaw hanging open.

Rachel faltered, smile dripping away, but Quinn had already turned away and was limping quickly over to where Finn was being helped to his feet. He blinked blearily at Quinn as she approached and let out a high-pitched squeak as she pulled her hand back.

There was a sickening crack and a spurt of blood, and Finn's body thumped back to the ground, blood dribbling from his broken nose. Quinn spat on his body for good measure and turned to see Santana and Rachel gaping at her.

"Slimy bastard," she muttered as she brushed past them and started back up the hill to the castle.

/

"Quinn Fabray? The kings are requesting your presence in the throne room."

Quinn looked up to see a young apprentice shifting uncomfortably before her. He couldn't be any older than fourteen, which explained why he looked absolutely terrified of her.

"Relax, kid," she said with a smirk. "I don't eat bad apprentices, despite what everyone says."

The boy paled visibly and attempted to sputter what was likely an apology, but Quinn was already up and limping toward the stairs.

After the spectacle in the courtyard, she had found a quiet corner of the castle to sit and be away from everyone. She'd been given a wide berth, which she was grateful for; she didn't really feel like talking to anyone. Pain always made her more irritable, and there was plenty of it at the moment.

The door to the throne room was propped open, and there were no guards waiting for her. Quinn limped through the doorway, and both kings halted in their conversation at the sight of her.

"Your Majesties," she said, not bothering to act like she was happy to have had to walk up all those steps. "You'll forgive me for not bowing, but I'd probably end up on my face."

Maybe they were going to reprimand her for breaking a fellow knight's nose, but no, they would have just sent someone else to do it. Whatever they'd called her for, it wasn't for something as minor as that.

Leroy chuckled slightly, but Hiram's facial expression didn't change as he said, "Our daughter has informed us of the events of this afternoon, and after a thorough discussion, we are assigning you to be her personal guard."

Things were quiet for a moment. Quinn blinked up at the kings, hoping she didn't look as bewildered as she felt. "Why?" she asked bluntly. Hiram frowned. "Why do you want a cripple protecting your daughter? I'm barely going to be able to walk in the morning."

Hiram steepled his fingers under his chin. "But you won."

"And you defended her honor," Leroy added, and he smiled as Quinn raised an eyebrow. "We do listen to our daughter occasionally, you know. Good parents do that."

Quinn glanced between them, then sighed and rubbed the short hair on the back of her head. "If you want me to, then I guess I don't really have much of a choice, do it?"

The men smiled at her in a way that answered her question.

/

It turns out that there were a few benefits to becoming the princess's personal guard. She was given her own quarters adjacent to Rachel's, and they were a hell of a lot nicer than the ones she'd shared with Santana for years.

As well, she didn't have to enter the cafeteria to get her meals anymore; she could get somebody to bring them up to her so she wasn't traipsing up and down the stairs at every meal. She would definitely be taking advantage of that job perk.

"I take it you like it up here?"

Quinn glanced over to see Rachel standing in the doorway with a smile on her face. "Oh yeah," she said dryly, letting her head drop back into her pillow. "It's nice to feel like you're not sleeping on rocks."

She relaxed into the bed again, and a few seconds later, she felt the side of the bed sink and knew Rachel had sat down. Nothing happened for a minute, but then she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a tentative touch on her leg.

Her eyes flew open, and she sat bolt upright. Rachel looked at her with wide eyes, hands flung up in surrender. "Sorry," she said quietly, avoiding meeting Quinn's eyes. "I was just–"

"Curious, I know," Quinn muttered, sinking back into the bed with a deep sigh. "Everybody else was too when they first found out." She ran a hand through her hair. "A blade carved out a lot of the muscle in my calf. It hurts, but they saved it so I could still walk and fight. They didn't want to lose me as a knight."

She opened an eye to see Rachel staring at her piteously, and she made a derisive noise and squeezed her eyes shut again. When it had first happened, everyone had looked at her like that; she couldn't stand it. It wasn't like she was completely incapacitated.

"I don't want your pity," she growled. "If you're going to look at me like the runt of the litter every time you see me, I'm going to go tell the kings that I can't do this, and Santana can be the one guarding your ass."

A hand on her arm stopped her as she made to roll out of the bed. "I'm sorry," Rachel said earnestly, sliding her hand down to Quinn's and squeezing it. "I'm sorry I was inconsiderate. But I wanted to tell you that even with a disadvantage, you're still the best candidate for this, and I want you here."

Quinn gave her an even look, and after a moment, she was convinced Rachel was being genuine. "Okay," she sighed. "Okay, fine, I'll stay. I doubt your fathers would have let me leave anyway."

She gave a small smile, which Rachel returned. "I can go get you dinner, if you want?" she offered.

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Rachel gave her hand one last squeeze and slid off the bed, leaving a bewildered Quinn behind. Seems the entire Berry family had that effect on her.

/

Word spread quickly, and soon it wasn't just the other inhabitants of the castle that were looking down at her. For some unknown reason, other royalty seemed to take Quinn's new position as an admission that she was the best the Berry family could offer to protect their heir. Quinn hadn't been bothered by the haughty looks, but Rachel had, and Quinn had had to all but drag her out before she strangled someone.

With all the time they'd spent together, the two of them had grown closer, and not having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs a day had lessened the pain in her leg along with the fact that leg massages were a nice luxury she had quickly come to love after realizing just what she'd been missing up to this point.

Finn had sulked around with two black eyes for a while, and Quinn had grinned like a fool every time she saw him. Sometimes she went out of her way to walk by him again in the hall, just because it made her feel better. Rachel had told her it was childish, but had seemed disappointed when the black eyes had started to fade.

"Dinner," Rachel called as she bounced into her room. Usually, it was Rachel or Santana that brought her meals up, and Quinn had stifled the initial urge to taunt Santana for it, grateful instead for the help.

Quinn smiled at her excitement where she was laying on the bed with her leg elevated and took the meal from Rachel so she could lay down beside her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Rachel chirped, scooting closer so she could rest her head on Quinn's shoulder. It had turned out that Rachel was a cuddler, and after the initial surprise, Quinn had been quickly converted.

They ate in silence, and Quinn savored it. After so many meetings with royalty, the quiet was nice.

"I'm sorry everyone ridiculed you," Rachel said quietly after they'd finished eating and were staring at the same spot on the ceiling. "If they think we're weak because of it, then they'll learn just how wrong they are."

She sniffed haughtily, and Quinn smiled and shifted so she could give her a brief kiss as thanks – it was a recent thing that Quinn had initiated that had just felt right at the time and had only improved on subsequent times. Rachel's face was split by a grin, and she wrapped her arms around Quinn and rested her head on her chest.

Quinn couldn't help but chuckle at the giddy look on her face, and hooked a finger under her chin to lift her head and kiss her again.


Creative liberties, ahoy! I know that Quinn would have died from her injuries or lost her leg at the very least, but keeping her alive gave her the bitterness that's readily apparent in this.