A/N: For those of you who've seen A Knight's Tale, you know the story takes a lot of liberties with history and purposely inserts more modern humor. This story will have a bit of that as well, other than the Glee references, so don't accuse me of not researching lol. That's just the style of the film. Not that you have to have seen AKT to enjoy! All readers welcome.

As usual, love the Brittana fandom until infinity. xo

/.../

Prologue

It started with a rumbling stomach.

Well, a rumbling stomach and a very dead Kenneth Tanaka.

The body was laying prone in the tent, unmoving even as flies danced over the pallid skin of his arms and feet. The stench was almost unbearable, a mix of unbathed flesh, unwashed clothing, and released bowels. Even the strips of cloth shoved into her nostrils can't block it out completely and she was certain that without them it would have knocked her off her feet. Not that Brittany currently cared about the scent. No, she was far more concerned with the sight of her dead patron, disappointment and pity churning in her already cramped stomach. She hadn't been with the man for very long. He was just another knight in a long line of knights in need of a seamstress and horse tender. Still, how could anyone feel anything but sad over such a sight? Or such a smell.

"Oh, for God's sake!"

Well, alright, perhaps Noah could. Blue eyes danced over to the young man where he'd just pushed through the tent flaps, staring at him as he swore and cursed the dead knight with a colorful array of words Brittany didn't even know existed. The muscles in his broad shoulders jumped and flexed as he tossed his hands up, cursing their fate with every breath. "How the hell will we eat with this bloody bastard just lying here, dead as Jesus?" He moved further into the tent, gagging on the scent even as he shoved Sir Kenneth's shoulder like the action might rouse him. Brittany wasn't quite certain what it was he hoped to accomplish, but she didn't argue. She was far too focused on the rumbling in her belly that told her it has been too long since her last meal.

Again the tent opened, the second of Sir Kenneth's squires stepping hesitantly inside, no doubt to discover why Noah Puckerman was shouting so loudly, or maybe to find out why Brittany had been standing there for the past five minutes. "Is he…?" But he didn't even finish the question with the answer so obvious in front of him. Brittany saw the despair fill the eyes of the Asian boy who now stood beside her and she reached out, patting Michael Chang's arm with sympathy even as she continued to stare at Noah pounding into the dead knight's chest. "You're not helping a bit, Noah," Michael chided, and when the other boy ignored him, he stepped forward to grip his arm. Their whispered argument carried on for a few moments as Brittany's mind wandered far from them.

It was only a knock on the front post of the tent that stirred her and she turned to open the flaps again, greeting the agitated man standing just outside with a warm smile. He gave her a strange look and Brittany's brows scrunched together as she tried to decipher the reason. The confused expression she wears shifted the muscles in her face and she became suddenly aware of the cloth strips in her nose, laughing as she pulled them out and tucked them behind her back.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely and he cleared his throat, obviously deciding not to question her actions.

"Sir Kenneth Tanaka is needed at the lists right away, or else he forfeits the tournament." He spoke briskly, his words spurring on the argument behind her. Their voices grew louder, Noah demanding to know how they're going to pay for food without a knight to earn some coins. It was a question that Brittany's grumbling stomach wanted to know the answer to as well. There was no doubt in her mind that she has always served the knights she's worked for with skill. Perhaps there were times her stitching was a bit crooked or she forgot to patch up a torn pant leg, but she knew she did good work otherwise. And no one handled Ken's horses like Brittany. She had always done her job and earned her keep… But what were they to do if there was no keep to earn?

The question repeated itself over and over in her mind as she stared up at the increasingly impatient man before her until at last she found herself blurting out, "He will be there." Her words halted the argument within the tent, but she pushed on without hesitating now. "Five minutes please, sir, and Sir Kenneth will be there. I swear it. He has only to redress in his armor." The silence stretched, striking them all mute for a full minute before the man sighed like the most put-upon squire in the nation, turned, and returned to his place to announce Sir Kenneth's eminent arrival.

Brittany, meanwhile, spun around, shouting for the boys to strip Sir Kenneth's armor and fix it to her own body. She was pulling off her own clothes, halfway through tugging up her tunic, before she realized they hadn't moved. "What?" she asks in confusion. "We have five minutes, boys, come on now. Fit me with the armor so that I can win us some supper."

"Brittany…" Michael began, but Noah cut him off before he could even hope to find some suitable response.

"No chance of that, Brittany. You're not of noble birth, and you're a woman besides." Her eyes cut to him in a glare, but he only shrugged, a quick lift of shoulders before he went on. "Besides, Tanaka's armor will drown you. You are far too slender and far too fragile. If we are to go through with such a plan, it should be Michael or myself who-"

"Who embarrasses himself and loses the tournament by being unseated?" she cut in, blue eyes unwavering. The two squires glanced at each other, a quick acknowledgment of the fact she was right. Of the three, only Brittany possessed any true talent in the saddle. They were suited only to sitting atop horses and walking them from one place to the next. No more, no less. If there was to be anyone who maintained their seat, it would be Brittany.

For a moment the three stared at each other, uncertainty thick in the air. And then Noah cursed, breaking the silence as he turned to Kenneth's body to remove the armor.

"May God protect you," Michael mumbled as the two began to fix the heavy metal to her thin frame. "May God help us all…"

The air was chilled. Brittany could see her horse's breath clouding before his muzzle as they waited to be released. "Steady, boy," she murmured to him as he pranced anxiously in place, her fingers tight around the leather of her reins while the other remained free, prepared to grip her lance. Though she tried not to show it outwardly, she was beyond nervous.

She only needed to stay on her horse to win. That was it. It was a gamble, but if she could stay mounted, they would eat tonight. All she had to do was maintain her seat, something she'd done a million times before. Granted, that was without having a very long piece of wood jabbed into her abdomen, so… They would just have to see how it went.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Michael mumbled, but Noah rolled his eyes and stepped forward, carefully putting a lance in Brittany's free hand.

"Aim true, Brittany," he murmured and she nodded, gulp hidden by the heavy metal of her borrowed armor. "And for God's sake, stay on the damned horse so that we might eat tonight and be done with it."

She nodded, gulping again as the full weight of the lance was released into her trembling hand. It was heavier than expected, but years of lifting hay and grain and rolls of fabric had toughened her and she gritted her teeth, tilting the lance down properly as she faced the man down the field. He was on the other side of the center divide, watching her even as she watched him.

Then the flag was dropped and they both took off, horses whinnying and kicking up dirt as they flew towards one another. Stay on, her mind whispered. Just stay on… They drew closer. She saw his eyes through the slit in his visor before he tilted his head up and they collided.

Stars exploded behind her eyes as the lance met her helmet, sending her reeling… But somehow she clung to the horse's back, sitting still upon him as the crowd cheered for a man now laying dead some distance from the field. They are cheering for her, really, and elation slowly built in her gut until she was grinning dizzily beneath her dented visor, not quite able to sit up straight. "I've done it," she whispered when a cheering Noah caught her horse, whooping as thick fingers wrapped around the reins. Michael grinned, patting Mercury's neck even as he stared up at Brittany.

"You have," he agreed. "You stayed on. That's what counts."

Later she was presented with gold for winning and she clutched it to her chest, though really the too-large armor prevented it from coming anywhere close to her thin frame. She wondered after the feeling inside of her, the feeling of accomplishment, the feeling of complete and utter… rightness. As if she was doing something she was created by Him to do. It was the strangest feeling and she tried to push it aside because, obviously, women (peasants) were not knights. There was no way to be a knight, not like this, not for her. Only knights could joust. Only…

Only, she wanted to joust so badly.

They reached the road and each squire held out their hands for their share, but she hesitated with the gold still piled in her palms. It was the moment of truth, the time of making a decision. "You know," she said slowly, a smile creeping across her face, "I've always wanted to be a knight…"