Chapter 1: 1780 - a winter's ball
Notes:
the title is a Shakespeare quote (with some tweaks) bc we are CORNY up in here and write fanfic about founding fathers
not beta read if u see mistakes in here point and laugh at me
p.s i glaze lafayette HARD in this through peggy's perspective so beware
8/12/25 - made a few changes and edited some weird wording
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Peggy Schuyler watches from a distance as her sisters dance around in the spotlight.
Angelica blessed every room she walked into with her beautiful hair and fantastic looks. Peggy knew that Angelica enjoyed the attention being on her–of course, it was only natural. Peggy would enjoy it, too. Angelica turned down men that wouldn't ever spare her sister a passing glance on an almost daily basis. If she didn’t know better, Peggy would be jealous.
Eliza is a gift to this world. She was the most trusting, kind-hearted woman that Peggy knew. Whoever gets to marry her will be a lucky man.
Peggy is nothing like them. She doesn’t get constant attention from boys, she doesn’t get to dance with everyone who stood on the ballroom floor-- hell-- she hasn’t even had her first kiss!
Peggy watched in silence as Angelica led a rather.. greasy looking fellow, over to Eliza. The two of them strike up a conversation and she looks away in fear of being caught. Looking over all the men in the ballroom, none of them in particular stuck out to her. Well, that was until she looked over to the bar.
There were three men sitting there. The one on the right had loose, curly hair in a ponytail that cascaded down his back. The one in the middle was turned to where Peggy couldn’t really see him, but the one to the left– oh, dear God, he was beautiful.
He had coiling locks, thrown up in a tight bun, so there was nothing to obstruct her view of his face. His jawline was in between sharp and soft, just perfectly on the border, how Peggy liked it. His nose was a straight slope and he had gorgeous full lips.
Abruptly, the man in the middle turned his head and caught Peggy’s eye.
In a hurry to not be caught staring, she snapped her head to the other side. She looked at anything but the men. The floor became incredibly interesting instantly.
If she tried hard enough, she could faintly make out some of their conversation.
“Hey, Lafayette. You’ll never believe who’s looking,” said one of them in a smug voice, which Peggy assumes is the one that saw her checking him out. So, the marvelous-looking-mystery-man’s name was Lafayette. She makes an inference that this man is French. Her father wouldn’t like that. He didn't like most people, but especially not foreigners. But, for some reason, this does not deter her. It doesn’t make Peggy want him any less.
“Eh, doesn’t matter,” spoke a French-accented voice. Peggy was right.
Doesn’t matter? He doesn’t care– doesn’t even look over to her. Perhaps it’s because he’s drunk, but either way, Peggy can’t help but feel relieved that this Lafayette boy didn’t care.
“No, man, go talk to her!” a different voice spoke.
“Nah– No. I’m not,” said Lafayette, sounding amused despite his words. “I’m not talking to a woman while I’m drunk– we know how that’s going to end up.”
“I’m going to go tell her to come here if you don’t go.” threatened one of them. Peggy heard a deep sigh and the sound of a chair moving, then the faint, teasing words of encouragement from Lafayette’s friends.
Peggy quietly cleared her throat, fixed her dress, and stood up a little straighter. A handsome man was finally approaching her. She wasn’t watching on the side-lines as her sisters caught man after man– no, it was finally her turn.
“Excuse me, madame,” said Lafayette once he arrived beside Peggy. He was holding two shot glasses and he raised one in offer. His accent was even stronger up close and for a second, she almost didn’t hear him say, “Care for a drink?”
Peggy faltered at this. She had never witnessed such an.. improper introduction. (Well, not counting Burr’s first time hitting on Angelica.) Despite this, she found her eyes glued to the man. Fuck, he was even more stunning up close.
She smiled awkwardly as she turned him down.
“Oh, no, sir. I don’t drink. Thank you, though,” said Peggy, trying as hard as she could to make sure he didn’t see her slight disappointment.
Lafayette grinned as he cringed at himself internally. He sat the two glasses down on the unoccupied table that was behind them. After a few seconds of unpleasant silence, he spoke once again.
“So, what’s someone like you doing all alone?” drawled Lafayette, trying to sound as interesting as he could so he wouldn’t lose her interest.
Peggy would be a liar if she claimed the way he said that didn’t do something to her.
“Well, my sisters are out dazzling the room. Left me without anything to do,” said Peggy. She decided that telling the truth wouldn’t hurt in this situation.
“Really? And they didn’t bring you along?” said Lafayette. It was a horrible attempt at flirting.
She huffed a laugh at him and turned her head to glance at her sisters. This man was so.. terribly awkward, and the worst part? She was loving it. The two of them were similar in this manner. Neither of them could flirt without sounding stupid.
“My name is Margarita Schuyler, but you,” she poked Lafayette on the nose and continued, “..can call me Peggy.” said Peggy. She attempted to hide her amusement, but it was clear as day on her face.
The other sighed shortly, smiled, and replied, “Lafayette.”
Peggy raised an eyebrow at that. He didn’t say anything about her being a Schuyler sister. That was one thing but – no way in hell was he getting away with only giving her a last name.
“Just Lafayette? No first or middle names?” asked Peggy, a small bit of accusation seeped into her tone, but she wasn’t really angry or irritated with the boy.
Lafayette’s expression faltered at that. She thought it was rather funny to watch him trip over himself, but she really did want to know the other’s actual name.
“Well, come on then, spit it out. I have all night, but I’d rather not spend it waiting for this.”
Lafayette sighed, the smile drifting off his face and forming into something more embarrassed.
“Okay, okay. Fine,” said Lafayette, raising his hands in mock-surrender, “Since you have to know.. My full name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La-Fayette, Marquis de Lafayette.”
He relishes in the way her face morphs into one of confusion and shock.
“Oh,” started Peggy.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll just stick to your last name.” This earned her a smile and a short laugh out of him. Perhaps she was getting somewhere, but he was also drunk, so it cut down the possibilities.
After that, they talked and chatted for hours, until the ball eventually came to an end. They never danced, not even once. Lafayette had insisted he was too clumsy to dance with someone as pristinely dressed as herself. No matter how hard she tried, he flat out refused. The music cut out, the musicians had grown tired from hours of playing almost non-stop.
Peggy glanced over to Lafayette, staring at him as the dim candlelight highlighted his features. His dark skin was perfectly flawless, all his features were exquisite , and–...
She hates to say it, but she was almost glad that she was caught staring earlier. She wouldn’t have ever made the first move, and she wouldn’t have ever had the chance to talk to him.
Though, distantly, she knew that this would not last. Lafayette probably wouldn’t even remember her the next time they spoke– if they ever get the chance to speak again, that is. They had exchanged addresses to write to each other, but she truly doubted that he will.
“Peggy!” exclaimed a voice that was headed towards them. Lafayette looked up to see who it was, but Peggy already knew. It was her father, Phillip Schuyler. He was here purely for a business meeting and he expected his daughters to behave. She would’ve tried to get away from Lafayette, but it was obvious that Phillip had already seen him.
Lafayette opened his mouth to ask who that was and Peggy quickly stuck a finger up at him before he could say a word. If her father found out she’d been hanging around a French guy– a drunk one at that– she couldn’t say just how he’d react, but she knew it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Father,” greeted Peggy, feigning normalcy.
Phillip seemed to glance at Lafayette, look him up and down, then back at Peggy.
Internally, she sighed in relief. Her father doesn’t care. Well– he doesn’t know that Lafayette is a foreigner yet, but that could wait. Phillp grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up.
“It’s quite time to go,” he said, voice too calm for comfort. Fuck, he probably knew. Of course he would– he just had to.
Peggy followed him without even as much as a glance back to Lafayette. Once they were far enough, her father turned to her and smacked her.
The hit wasn’t hard, per-se, but the force was enough to make her head snap to the side. She silently reached up to her cheek. Peggy had seen it coming, but it still hurt nonetheless. She said nothing and waited for her father to speak.
“What were you doing with that boy?” he asked in that same, eerily calm tone.
Peggy didn’t exactly know how to respond, so she spouted out the truth.
“We’re not friends or anything, father, he just.. wanted to talk and I was alone– it’s nothing, father, I promise,” Well, she left out the part where she, too, wished to speak with him, but it’s still partially the truth.
“What did I say about talking to strangers?” said Phillip, “I gave you one specific order, and you couldn’t even do that much!” His voice grew into a yell. Peggy was sure eyes were on them now.
“Father, please–” she tried, but received another smack that shut her up.
“No! Do you know who that is? He’s a foreigner that almost no one knows. Don’t you know what such a man could do to someone? He could kidnap you and we’d never even know who did it!”
Well, maybe that would be for the better, Peggy thought to herself before feeling a pang of guilt. She was willing to run off with a man she barely knew just to get away from her father. Jesus Christ, that was messed up.
Phillip took a deep breath and grabbed her arm once more. As he dragged her off, she took one last glance over to Lafayette. He was already back to his friends, sitting idly with a bored expression. She sighed and looked away from him. It wasn’t worth the trouble.
The two of them exited the building and met up with her sisters. Eliza was practically beaming, while Angelica looked an odd mix of jealous and supportive.
Peggy ignored the three of them and stepped into the awaiting carriage. She sat in the corner and leaned onto the wooden beam. She didn’t even attempt to mask her disappointment.
Why does fate always hand Peggy the shorter stick?
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“Peggy, the mail’s here!” called Eliza from downstairs.
Peggy was barely awake. She sat and rubbed her eyes sleepily before standing and slipping her house-slippers on. How does Angelica leave the house this early daily ?
She makes her way down the stairs and into the sitting room, where her father and Eliza sifted through letters. Peggy took her seat and grabbed a few off the table to inspect the addresses. Most was just trash or spam letters asking them to sign up for a subscription to a daily news newspaper. But, at the bottom of the pile, she spotted one with her name on it.
Glancing at her father, then at Eliza, she made sure they were distracted before she slipped the letter into the deep, left pocket of her gown. Peggy sighed and dropped the other letters back onto the table.
“Nothing but spam mail, like usual,” she said, then she stood and turned to go back upstairs. Without giving anyone a moment to call out for her, she sped-walked up the staircase. Once out of sight, she bolted to her room, opening the door and locking it behind her.
She sat down on the bed and pulled out the letter. Her full name was on the front of the envelope and in the corner was the sender.
Marquis de Lafayette.
He hadn’t forgotten about her. He had actually written to her like he said he would. Peggy couldn’t help but stare at the letter in shock for a few moments before peeling it open.
“ My dearest, Margarita,
To begin this letter, I’d like to apologize for not writing to you sooner. To add, I also apologize for any errors made in this message, as I am not completely fluent in the English language yet, and I am in a rush to write this.
Margarita Schuyler, you are the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon. Your personality is one that only the brightest of people could have. In a way, you remind me of the sun. You shine brightly in the day time, but by night, you are nowhere to be found. Truly, I do hope that we get to meet again. There is so much that we do not know about each other, a whole foundation of unexplored territory to discover. It has been only a week since we’ve first and last met and yet I cannot help but feel like I am missing something when I’m not around you.
Despite all this, there is one other thing I would like to discuss.
I saw that your father was yelling at you the other night. If you don’t mind telling, and with all due respect, why was he doing that? Why did he hit you like that? His name is Phillip Schuyler, yes? I’ve heard about him, but that was the first time I’ve seen him. Your father is a very, very intimidating man, dear Peggy. I would like to know more about him, if you do not care to share.
I have to hurry and get to the General’s quarters– he’s asked to see me, and frankly, I’m a little afraid to go see what he wants. But, if you are willing to speak to me further, please do not hesitate to write back. I wish you a nice day.
- Lafayette.
Oh.
Dear God. He wrote her a love letter.
Lafayette wrote her a love letter .
Not only that, he complimented her! Multiple times. When he had flirted with her at the ball, she had believed it was just a mere, drunken joke. But now, he’s done it sober and wrote it down!
Her eyes skimmed over the letter once more, as if to confirm what she’s just read. The questions about her father piqued her interest. Peggy arose from her bed and walked to her desk.
She sat in the chair and picked up her quill. She tore a piece of parchment from the roll and began to write.
This is going to be the best letter he’ll ever read.
Notes:
can u tell i want to crack daveed diggs bc I think it really showed here
Chapter 2: 1780 - helpless
Summary:
“Dear Lafayette,
It has come to my attention that you..”
Peggy stared blankly at the page for a moment before crumpling it up and starting again.
“Dear Marquis,
I received your letter. It was very .. heartfelt, to say the least..”
She sighed in frustration and crumpled yet another sheet of paper. This isn’t working. What do you say to a man you barely know, who writes as if he’s known you for ten years? Peggy wants to be flattering with her words– wants to be poeticial, just like Lafayette had– but she can’t seem to find a way to speak to him.
Does she pretend to be familiar with him? Should she be professional? What could she say to make him want to actually write back?
Peggy grabs another sheet of paper and dips her quill into the ink.
Notes:
sorry for the wait!! exams were kicking my ass, so i took a little break from writing but schools out now so huzzah!!!!!
OKAY SO I EDITED SOMETHING— I ACCIDENTALLY PUT MAJOR GENERAL INSTEAD OF SOLDIER IN THE LETTER WHEN LAFAYETTE WASNT A MAJOR YET 😭 I FIXED IT
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Dear Lafayette,
It has come to my attention that you..”
Peggy stared blankly at the page for a moment before crumpling it up and starting again.
“ Dear Marquis,
I received your letter. It was very .. heartfelt, to say the least..”
She sighed in frustration and crumpled yet another sheet of paper. This isn’t working. What do you say to a man you barely know, who writes as if he’s known you for ten years? Peggy wants to be flattering with her words– wants to be poeticial, just like Lafayette had– but she can’t seem to find a way to speak to him.
Does she pretend to be familiar with him? Should she be professional? What could she say to make him want to actually write back?
Peggy grabs another sheet of paper and dips her quill into the ink.
“ My dearest Lafayette,
I’ve received your letter. Please, once we meet again, refrain from the constant apologies. It is quite alright, I assure you. Though I cannot say I was not waiting for your letter to arrive. Also, please, call me Peggy. We’re friends, right?
To answer your questions, my father was yelling at me because I had gone against his only rule and disobeyed him. He had specifically told me to stay away from anyone I didn’t know. It was his only demand, yet I still did not listen. Despite his dramatic ways of punishment, he is a good person. He only wishes to ensure my absolute safety, even if it’s suffocating.
I’d love to know more about your job as a soldier. What is it like, being around Mr. Washington? Is he as elegant and eloquent as the papers assume?
I wish I could write more, but I’m running low on ink. I hope to see you soon. Have a good day.”
- Peggy Schuyler.
Peggy leaned back in the chair and reread her letter at least four times. She had lied, she still had a whole pallet of ink, she just had nothing else to say. Lafayette didn’t have to know that, though. She’s never been good at writing. Peggy had always been able to express herself best through face-to-face speaking.
She grabbed one of the blank envelopes that were sitting on her desk in a stack– a birthday present she rarely uses– and slid the letter down into it. She had to focus greatly to remember the boy’s address, but it soon came to her mind. She scribbled it down and spelled his name as best as she could. Then, she rose out of her seat and slid the letter down in her pocket.
Peggy opened the door to her room and snuck out. She glided down the stairs almost silently, then went out the door. She made her way down to the post office, which was only about a block from the house.
She didn’t meet anyone on the way there. It was a late Monday evening– yes, she did take the entire day to write this letter, don’t judge– so everyone had already returned home from their jobs. Once she arrived, she opened the door and stepped in. The small postal office only had the window, a chair, and the desk. Peggy approached the desk and handed the lady the envelope wordlessly.
“Where to, honey?” asked the lady.
“The address is on there.” responded Peggy. The lady flipped the letter over and nodded.
Peggy left the office as fast as she came. She half-ran down the street, desperate to get home before anyone notices her absence. Getting caught out right now would definitely not be in her favor.
As she turned the corner that leads to her yard, she ran face-first into someone. The force was enough to make her stumble back a few steps into the hedges.
“Peggy.” spoke the cold voice.
She knew that voice anywhere. Her father.
Fuck.
“Father,” greeted Peggy. She kept her voice even and plain to try and keep his suspicions at bay.
Phillip gave her a once-over and stared at her blankly. He scoffed light and grabbed her by the arm. He pulled her into the doorstep, and for a second, Peggy thought she was through.
“Why are you outside, girl? Come on, dinner’s ready,” said Phillip, “But change out of those clothes first. We have a guest today, I don’t want my daughter lookin’ like a fool. Jesus.”
Peggy sighed to herself and climbed back upstairs. Her father was always so unnecessarily rude– it makes her wonder if she’ll turn out like that one day. She shudders at the thought.
At the top of the staircase was Angelica. Standing there with a letter in her hand. Peggy froze right in her tracks. She couldn’t tell if that was the letter Lafayette wrote to her or something else, but regardless, it kind of freaked her out that Angelica was just standing there menacingly.
“Hey, Angelica,” said Peggy. Angelica looked up from the letter and at Peggy. Her expression was one that told Peggy that she definitely knew. In a rush, Peggy tried to slip by her sister, but she was grabbed by the arm.
She turned around to look at her, but Angelica’s expression was not the disappointed one that she imagined. No, in fact, she looked almost.. proud. Angelica handed Peggy the letter and fled down the stairs without a word.
Deciding that she’s wasted enough time, Peggy finally moved from the top of the staircase to her room. She shut the door behind her. She stepped over to her bed, lifted the mattress slightly, and dropped the letter underneath it. Angelica finding this was one thing– no one else needed to know – especially not any more of her family members.
She dropped the mattress down onto the bed frame. Peggy recalled that her father had said that they had a guest coming over. She walked over to her closet and dug out a pretty red dress and a pair of slick, black heels. She slipped the dress over her night clothes. She couldn't be bothered to take them off. With the corset, it’s not like anyone would be able to tell. She stepped into the heels. They were half a size too big, but it wasn’t a problem. It was only around the house, after all.
She took a glance at herself in the mirror and decided it was good enough. Peggy didn’t bother with makeup, there wasn’t enough time anyway. She opened her door and carefully walked down the stairs, trying not to fall like she had many times before. She arrived in the sitting room only to find her father and a business partner.
Phillip gave her a harsh glance before turning back to his friend, who didn’t acknowledge her presence. Peggy quickly turned on her heel and went into the kitchen, where her sisters were.
Eliza idly chatted with Angelica about a man named Alexander. Ever since the ball, he’s all she ever talks about anymore. Peggy has not yet met this man, but from the way Eliza speaks of him, he must be one hell of a guy. She hoped that he could make her sister happy.
Neither of them said anything to her, so Peggy sat down at the table and got lost in her own thoughts.
No matter what she tried to think about, Lafayette came to her mind. She wonders if he’ll get her letter, if he’ll even read it. Just thinking about it made her feel so helpless. How did she fall for a boy that she’s just met? A boy that probably doesn’t share the same feelings for her? An immigrant that barely speaks English!
That thought made Peggy pause. If Lafayette barely knew English, how did he write so well? Maybe she’s assuming wrong. Her father’s genes are showing. She can’t help but feel a little disappointed in herself for even thinking that.
At least she didn’t say it to his face.
Phillip and his colleague entered the kitchen and Angelica stood to go make their plates. The two other girls also stood and followed her. Peggy grabbed a plate from the stack and went down the line to pick out everything her father liked.
Once she was done, she moved over to where Phillip was sitting and placed the plate in front of him with a smile. She awaited some kind of praise or thanks, but none came, so she left emptied handed. Eliza gave her father’s friend his plate and got back in line to grab her own.
Peggy’s sisters sat down to enjoy their meal. Peggy, on the other hand, decided to skip dinner. She went outside into the garden. She assumed that no one would notice or care that she wasn’t present, so she didn’t bother telling anyone where she was headed.
The garden was truly a wondrous place. Lines and rows of flowers, fruits, and even tomatoes, which were presumed to be poisonous. Peggy always wondered why her father insisted on planting them if they could kill someone.
She sat on the garden chair. There wasn’t anything to really do at home anymore, but Peggy did not have many friends, and even then, her father would most likely refuse to let her hang out with them.
Abruptly, the door opened.
Peggy whipped her head around, expecting to see her father there, ready to berate her for coming outside while there was a guest present. But, instead, there was Eliza.
Eliza came over to Peggy and sat down in the grass beside the chair. Peggy moved to get up and give her sister the chair, but she was stopped.
“No, no. Stay as you are, I’m fine here,” said Eliza, voice as soft as ever. Peggy strived to be like her. She was the perfect model for what a girl their age should be like.
Peggy loved her sisters, she really did, but sometimes she finds herself feeling envious of them.
Eliza and Peggy sit in the garden for a while, chatting idly to each other about things that neither of them really cared about. It’s probably the first time that Eliza hadn’t brought up Alexander in a conversation this whole week. They talked and talked until the sun went down over the horizon, then they decided to go back inside.
As they stepped back into the house, the two sisters parted ways. Peggy went back upstairs for the umpteenth time today. She went into her room, slipped off her heels, and laid down on the bed. She considered sleeping with the dress on, but the itchy lace convinced her otherwise. She got up and peeled it off, tossing it back into her closet without any care.
She climbed underneath the sheets and buried her face into her pillow. This had to be the longest day ever.
Oh, well. There’s always tomorrow.
Notes:
uploading another chapter this week too and i'm not lying this time i swear
Chapter 3: 1780 - the pride of mount vernon
Summary:
“Marquis, sir, I’ve called you here today because our odds are.. not great. You see, our shared friend, Alexander Hamilton, has recommended you for the job of leading a battalion of our men,” said Washington, “But, I cannot just take his word for it. If you want this position, I need you to prove to me why I should hire you. I’ve seen your work before, and don’t take this the wrong way, you were great— but after that slip up in Brandywine,”
Washington trailed off, pausing mid-sentence, before continuing, “I need to make sure giving you command won’t be a mistake.”
Oh.
Notes:
more filllerrrrr except this part is a little more important for future reference
tw : graphic descripton of a body during a dream sequence and shitty rep of anxiety
also this is def INCREDIBLY inaccurate to history
I didnt study, so if u notice something and u think its wrong, it probably is
everything in French is translated to english in the end notes !!!
for ur convenience, everything in italics is the dream sequence
ok have fun bye
7/23/25 - tiny little update ; changed the name of this chapter from "here comes the general" to "the pride of mount vernon"
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Washington, sir?” said Lafayette, entering the luxurious room that was George Washington’s office. Lafayette always considered himself to be a mildly well-mannered man. So why was he so frightened of speaking with the General? It’s not like this is a first or anything. They’ve spoken many times before, so what was so different? It was every time before they spoke– Lafayette felt almost afraid . He’s never had this issue with any other type of authority, so why Washington?
“You asked to see me?” added Lafayette when he did not get an immediate response.
“Yes, I did. Please, come sit,” responded Washington, not bothering to look up from his papers.
“Yes, sir,” muttered Lafayette. He reluctantly took a seat in the chair in front of the desk. The funny feeling in his chest grows as he does so. He feels unbearably nervous. It always ends up being fine while speaking to the General, but Lafayette can’t help but feel as if Washington will suddenly dismiss him, or order his execution, or something else of the sort.
It’s a very unrealistic standard, but one measly lie or rumor could possibly crash his whole life (or worse, if said lie/rumor reached Washington), so Lafayette believed that it was reasonable. Besides, it was common knowledge that Washington didn’t care too much for the French, especially not the nobles.
“Marquis, sir, I’ve called you here today because our odds are.. not great. You see, our shared friend, Alexander Hamilton, has recommended you for the job of leading a battalion of our men,” said Washington, “But, I cannot just take his word for it. If you want this position, I need you to prove to me why I should hire you. I’ve seen your work before, and don’t take this the wrong way, you were great— but after that slip up in Brandywine,”
Washington trailed off, pausing mid-sentence, before continuing, “I need to make sure giving you command won’t be a mistake.”
Oh.
Hamilton recommended him? To lead ? Jesus, Lafayette knew that Alexander was rash in his decision making but, seriously ? The last time Lafayette led anyone, he was shot!
Lafayette seemed to freeze, not sure what to say. He had just returned from France to retrieve more French support, now he’s being faced with this kind of offer? He wasn’t ever going to be this involved. He never planned this far ahead.
On one hand, he wanted to go find Alexander and shove a pipe up his ass for doing this behind his back, but on the other, he found himself wanting the job. He found himself wanting to take this opportunity.
In Brandywine, after he was shot in the leg, Lafayette promised himself that he’d never do something like that again. He swore unto himself that he would stay safe from then on out and never do something so reckless again.
But something about this felt so right . Lafayette feels as if he’d be a fool to decline.
“What do I need to do?” questioned Lafayette after a moment of hesitation.
The sides of Washington’s lips quirked up in a small smile that was quickly replaced with a solemn expression.
“Son, we are outgunned, outmanned, outnumbered , outplanned . We need all the help we can get. I’ve got Hamilton as my right-hand man, and don’t get me wrong, he lightens the load, but it’s not enough. There’s still so much to do, so much work to get done in such little time. I need to know if you can be useful, not just on the battlefield, but with other responsibilities, too, ” said Washington, “I need you to prove to me that you can handle it, because it won’t be easy.”
“You have my absolute commitment, sir. I will do whatever it takes to help this country win its freedom,” said Lafayette. It felt lame coming out of his mouth. He felt as if he needed to say more. “I may not be as great with a quill as Alexander is, but I can assure you that I can be of assistance, sir.”
That wasn’t much better, but at least he didn’t just freeze up this time.
Washington looked at him blankly for a few seconds before he finally spoke up once more with faint amusement in his tone.
“Well, at least I can see that you’ll take this seriously,” His amused tone faded away as he continued, “ But, you have to realize that this is no game. This is real life. One mistake– one simple mistake– could lead to the death of thousands. It’s a huge responsibility. Do you truly think you can handle it?”
This sent Lafayette into a spiral within his own mind. One mistake and he could kill half of the country. He’s always seen himself as a responsible person, someone who could get the job done, but could he take this? Could he give up the life he’s worked so hard for in America, give it all away , so he can lead?
“Yes,” said Lafayette. The word felt foreign in his mouth at the moment. He’s practically just signed his life away. But, he reminds himself, it’s for a good cause. It’s for the freedom of America, which if achieved, could lead to the freedom of France. Lafayette would do anything to see his home country be freed in his lifetime.
Washington nodded again. Then, he handed Lafayette a stack of papers from his desk.
“Fill all these out. Have them ready by tomorrow,” ordered Washington. “You’re dismissed.”
Lafayette was a little shocked by the sudden action, but quickly nodded and left the room without another word. He fumbled with the papers, then quickly shoved them down into his bag, but even then, they stuck out a little. This was going to be a lot of work to do. He probably won’t have time to do anything but write. Jesus, he hasn’t even sat down and started yet, but he already felt tired.
Lafayette took a carriage home. Once he arrived, he paid the carriage owner and quickly ran inside. He opened the door which, for some reason, wasn’t locked, and ran to the closest desk he had, which was in his bedroom. He placed his bag down and dug out the papers. The size of the pile was not to be underestimated– there were at least fifty pages, front and back, to be filled out. He spent a second just staring at the size of the workload.
He quickly decided that he’s wasted enough precious time and sat down, grabbed his quill and ink, and got to work.
````````````
“Gilbert! Allez, c'est l'heure d'y aller,” shouted his mother from the other room.
“D'accord, d'accord, une seconde!” yelled Lafayette. His mother was always rushing him. They were about to go to a dinner party at one of his mother’s friend’s house, which he honestly didn’t want to go to, but didn’t have the heart (or nerve) to tell his mother no.
Lafayette did a few last minute touch-ups to his outfit, such as straightening his cravat and fixing his buttons on the suit. He was only twelve, yet his mother and grandmother insisted that he dress formally for every occasion. He took one last look at himself in the mirror before heading out of his bedroom and into the hallway,
As he shut his bedroom door, the walls seemed to distort themselves, leaving Lafayette utterly disoriented. He stumbled and grabbed for the wall, but it disappeared right before his eyes. He fell to the ground, and suddenly, he was somewhere else entirely.
He’s back on the battlefield in Brandywine, surrounded by hundreds of dead soldiers. They were all mutilated to the point where Lafayette could not identify them, even if he knew them before. Some of their eyes were gouged out, blood spilled from the wounds by the gallon. Missing limbs were scattered around the field and those who were missing them were screaming and shrieking in pain. There was fire surrounding them, charring the bodies slowly.
Lafayette squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears. He curled into himself, desperately waiting for this nightmare to finally end.
Unidentifiable, mangled bodies slowly transformed into his friends. Lafayette refused to open his eyes, refusing to see them in such a state. He kept his eyes shut and his hands over his ears but it was to no avail. He could hear their shrieks of pain, their ear-piercing cries for help.
Lafayette felt red hot, blistering pain in his leg, and he instinctively opened his eyes. His leg was on fire, searing the fabric and the flesh straight off. He cried out loudly, hoping that someone could find him and help him. Once he peered up, he was met with the face of John Laurens. His hair was scorched off and the smell of burning flesh hit Lafayette’s nose with an underlying fury.
Laurens had no eyes.
Lafayette quickly looked away. He couldn’t help the tears that began to slide down his face. The salty tears burned his skin as if they were acid, or perhaps the fire was spreading up his body. He couldn’t tell anymore.
Then, Lafayette jolted awake and slammed his head onto his desk as he did so.
Lafayette raised his head off of his desk and attempted to calm his labored breathing. In and out, he reminded himself. It was only a dream.
The images of the nightmare were still vivid in his mind. He brought a hand to his face and wiped away his tears. He sniffled lightly before attempting to clear his mind.
Everything is okay, no one is dead. He repeated the phrase in his mind as if it were a montra.
Lafayette looked down at the papers on his desk. What was he doing with all these papers?
Then, it clicked. Washington. The meeting yesterday. The papers that are due today.
Lafayette bolted up and collected the papers off of the desk, trying his best to stack them neatly. He knows that he finished the stack because he absolutely refused to take a break last night, not even stopping for a snack or dinner. He stuffed them into his too-small handbag, pulled it shut, and darted out the door.
He only lived a couple of blocks from where Washington currently resided, so it was no trouble to run all the way there. He didn’t have time to wait for a carriage, and besides, they were extremely slow, anyway.
Once he arrived, he knocked on the door. Once, then twice, three times. No answer. Lafayette stood there for a second as he attempted to catch his breath. Maybe running those three and a half miles wasn’t the greatest idea.
Then, Martha Washington, George’s wife, opened the door. She stared at Lafayette in surprise for a moment.
“Hi,” said Lafayette breathlessly. It came out sounding awkward.
“Who– Who are you?” asked Martha, squinting her eyes at the man.
“I’m Lafayette– I have something for Mr. Washington,” replied Lafayette as he finally evened out his breathing.
Martha shrugged and let him in. That took a lot less convincing than Lafayette thought it would.
“He’s in his office,” said Martha, not bothering to give directions. She didn’t have to, as Lafayette already knew the way anyway.
He scaled up the stairs. He reached Washington’s office without issue. This is the hard part. That nervous feeling from before began to bubble up within him once more, and suddenly he was rethinking anything he’s ever done that may have led to this point.
What if his work wasn’t good enough? What if Washington takes one look and laughs right in his face?
Lafayette took a deep breath, straightened his posture and pulled the stack of paperwork from his bag. Then, he twisted the door knob and opened the door.
Washington was sitting at his desk, quill in hand as he scribbled down endless amounts of words onto the parchment in front of him. He glanced up.
“Marquis,” greeted Washington. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
Lafayette would have been offended by the implications of that if he weren’t so tired. Wordlessly, he approached the desk and dropped the papers onto it.
“I hope that my work is to your satisfaction, sir,” said Lafayette.
Washington moved his current pages out of the way and grabbed the stack. He skimmed through the pages, reading a couple of sentences from each.
“My God, I didn’t know you knew this much English. Have you been holding out on us?” said Washington.
Lafayette knew it was a joke, he really did, but it took everything in him to not yell at the General right then and there for that comment. Everyone always assumed that because he was a foreigner, he didn’t have the ability to learn English. They act as if his brain cannot form the words or something.
Instead of lashing out, Lafayette simply huffed a laugh and pretended that the joke was funny.
“I’ll look over these. I’m sure you have other things to do, so you are dismissed,” said Washington offhandedly.
Lafayette stared at him blankly for a moment before his words registered in his mind. Then, he nodded, said his thanks, and departed from the office.
To calm his mind, Lafayette decided to take a walk around the block before going home. He kept thinking back to that awful dream. The shrieks and cries of pain were embedded into his brain. He tried to tell himself that the events of Brandywine didn’t actually go that way. Laurens was reckless at the battle, yes, but he survived. He is okay.
Nothing seemed to work, though. He could only think of how horribly burned Laurens’ body was in the nightmare.
Oh, well. A visit to a friend’s house never hurt anyone.
Notes:
<3
"Allez, c'est l'heure d'y aller !" = Come on, it's time to go!
"D'accord, d'accord, une seconde !" = Okay, okay, one second!
im thinking abt writing an actual book
do y'all think that's a good idea bc I need that cash lowkey but I don't know if my work is good enough lolol
Chapter 4: 1780 - france refuted
Summary:
“Hey, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be born as a chicken?” Laurens had asked.
Lafayette turned his head and pretended to be deep in thought. How would it be to be born as a chicken?
Then, Laurens suddenly bursted into laughter beside him.
Once Lafayette heard the laughter he turned back to Laurens and his face contorted into a confused expression. “What? What is it?” Lafayette asked.
Through his laughing fit, Laurens barely got his words out.
“Oh– Oh dear God, Laf, go to the bathroom and look at the side of your face!” the man exclaimed.
Lafayette felt his heart drop. What was on his face? Had he visited Washington looking like a fool? He quickly rose to his feet and walked over to the bathroom. He flicked the switch on the lantern and glanced at himself in the mirror.
He turned his head to look at the left side of his face. Lafayette’s heart drops straight to his stomach.
Notes:
i feel like coryxkenshin coming back from one of his year long breaks
i'm ngl I don't even have an excuse for the late update I just didn't feel like writing
I have to babysit a 8 yr old for 2 weeks starting tomorrow so idk if i'll have another chapter out for a little bit but I've been pretty motivated the last couple of days so MAYBEEEE
also this is not beta read if I fucked something up point and laugh at me in the comments
ok bye
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lafayette was never one to dwell on the unimaginable. He was a man of logic . He never thought that he’d be on a carriage ride to Laurens’ residence on a random Friday at ten o’clock in the morning all because he had a dream.
When he had entered the carriage, the driver had given him a funny look. Lafayette, being the petty man he is, gave him a funny look right back. That’s how he ended up in the back seat without any windows and charged extra.
John usually stayed in South Carolina with his family, but he had been called to stay closer to Washington over the winter due to high probabilities and rumors of a British ambush. Even then, the carriage ride was well over thirty minutes long. Lafayette hopes that travel will be easier in the future. If this is how he has to get around his entire life, maybe he would prefer dying young.
Hearing the sounds of the city pass by was one of his favorite things. He truly enjoyed hearing civilization. Hearing people . Lafayette supposes that it’s just something that comes with the isolation of war.
He could tell by the turns of the wagon that they were nearing the house. He stood up and made his way to the front of the carriage. Once they pulled into the yard, Lafayette got out without a word to the driver. He refused to thank an asshole like him.
He fixed his cravat the best he could without a mirror, then tried to even out the wrinkles in his waistcoat. He knew that John wouldn't care about his state-of-dress, but he tried to uphold some form of dignity anyway. Lafayette cared for his appearance, and that was enough for him.
Sighing deeply and beginning to regret coming here, he approached the front door. John’s house wasn’t huge. Just a small, basic bungalow in the midst of the city. It had two bedrooms and one bathroom, with a living area and a small kitchen. At this point, Lafayette believed he knew this place better than his own home. He knocked on the door once. When he didn’t get an answer, he knocked again. Then his nerves kicked in once the door stayed still in front of him.
Just as Lafayette was beginning to worry, the door opened and revealed one John Laurens. Lafayette had to physically restrain himself from sighing in relief as he saw the man. He grinned at him.
“Lafayette, what a surprise! What brings you here?” said Laurens as he ushered him inside. They sat down on the couch beside each other.
“Well, I was in the area so I decided to stop by,” lied Lafayette. He wasn’t in the area. He was at his own house just a few hours ago. He seriously needeed to fix his lying issues.
Laurens smiled at him and started up a conversation about something random, something that didn't actually matter. Lafayette didn’t care to humor him for a while, as he was happy just to be with his friend after such a horrible nightmare.
“Hey, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be born as a chicken?” Laurens had asked.
Lafayette turned his head and pretended to be deep in thought. How would it be to be born as a chicken?
Then, Laurens suddenly bursted into laughter beside him.
Once Lafayette heard the laughter he turned back to Laurens and his face contorted into a confused expression. “What? What is it?” Lafayette asked.
Through his laughing fit, Laurens barely got his words out.
“Oh– Oh dear God, Laf, go to the bathroom and look at the side of your face!” the man exclaimed.
Lafayette felt his heart drop. What was on his face? Had he visited Washington looking like a fool? He quickly rose to his feet and walked over to the bathroom. He flicked the switch on the lantern and glanced at himself in the mirror.
He turned his head to look at the left side of his face. Lafayette’s heart dropped straight to his stomach.
There was a huge ink stain on his jaw. It had trickled down his neck and stained his cravat, too. It was completely dry. If he squinted, he could faintly make out a few words on his face. He’d have to get new clothes and he probably would have a decently sized ink stain on his cheek for a while.
Lafayette sighed and dunked his hand into the wash basin. He didn’t have anything to wipe his face on, so his hands would just have to suffice.
Once he had enough water and a little soap, he scrubbed at the ink stain. It did close to nothing.
The stain had now both transferred to his hands and smeared across his face. Lafayette had succeeded in making it much worse. He supposes that he now knows why both Washington and the carriage driver had looked at him oddly.
Lafayette sighed and leaned onto the basin. He looked back up at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but laugh at the mess. It was terrible, really. A big, blackish-grey stain all over the left side of his face. How would he bear to go out in public for the next few days?
“Hey, you alright in there?” a voice asked from outside the door, “Don’t let all that ink get to your brain!”
Lafayette rolled his eyes at Laurens’ antics and opened the door.
Laurens’ eyes widened as he took in the scene. Immediately after, he began laughing again. He wasn’t ever going to let Lafayette live this one down.
“Jesus Christ, Lafayette—” Laurens cut himself off with another laugh, this time at Lafayette’s blank expression. “You went to Washington like that? And I thought Alexander was bad.”
Lafayette sighed. He couldn’t help the way he smiled ever-so-slightly at Laurens.
“It’s not funny!” exclaimed Lafayette, “Do you have a rag?”
Laurens jokingly pouted. “Oh, I did, but after you yelled at me like that, ehh.. I don’t have one anymore.”
Lafayette sighed. “ Laurens..”
Laurens grinned devilishly at him.
“What’s the magic word?”
Lafayette rolled his eyes and considered just leaving the stain on there before he remembered that he actually had somewhere to be today. So, after a few seconds of contemplation, he muttered, “ ..Please?”
“That’s it!” Laurens snapped his fingers and nodded. He walked past Lafayette to grab a towel from the cabinet. He handed Lafayette a small, black hand towel. Lafayette thanked him and dipped the fabric into the wash basin.
He scrubbed the ink stain until the only thing left was a dull grey stain. His cravat and the start of his waistcoat were ruined, though. There was no way he’d ever get that off. Then, he remembers that the tailor closes at around three P.M. It was a Friday and they’re only open on weekdays. It wasn’t that late yet, right?
“Hey, Laurens?” Lafayette called.
“Hm?” responded Laurens from the other room.
“What time is it?” asked Lafayette, not taking his eyes off of himself in the mirror. He was still scrubbing at the ink on his neck.
“Uhh,” There was a pause as Laurens went to look at the clock, “About twelve fifteen.”
Lafayette sighed. If he tried, he could probably make it in time. He tossed the rag into the hamper and flicked the lantern off. He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“I’ve got to go, Laurens. See you later,” called Lafayette once he realized that Laurens was not in the sitting room.
“Wait!” Laurens yelled as he ran back into the room, “Where are you going so fast, Laf?”
‘Well, if I want to be presentable the next time I have to appear in public, I better get down to the clothing store,” said Lafayette, pointing at the big stain on the white fabric of his cravat and waistcoat.
“Ah, I see,” said Laurens. He paused, picked up his own coat from the hanger, then continued, “Wait– here, take my coat– what kind of friend would I be if I sent you away looking like that? ”
Lafayette took the coat and put it on. It was a dark brown color and a little larger than his own, but that didn’t matter.
“Thank you, Laurens,” Lafayette said. He hugged him and bid him farewell before exiting the building. Lafayette walked out of the yard by himself. He’d have to walk until there was a carriage nearby, which would probably be quite a while.
Lafayette felt something dangling on the back of his neck. He reached his hand back to feel it and– oh. This wasn’t Laurens’ regular coat. This one had a hood and he had given it to Lafayette so he could hide himself.
Lafayette pulled the hood over his head. God bless Laurens.
Eventually, he finally made it back to the outskirts of the city. He paid for a carriage ride and actually got a seat with a window this time.
Looking at the city through the window, Lafayette could help but wonder about that girl from the ball a few days ago. Peggy , Lafayette thinks. She was very nice. The only girl who spoke to him the whole night, actually. He knows that it’s not good to stereotype, but she’s a Schuyler , so she probably won’t even bother to write him back. He hasn’t received anything yet, but perhaps he will soon.
The ride wasn’t long. He paid the driver and hopped out. He still had the hood on, but considering it was the middle of winter, it wasn’t very suspicious. Though he did get some weird looks when he entered the tailor’s store with the thing still on.
He went over to the cravats and his eyes grazed over the multitude of fabrics. He decided on a plain white one with lace at the bottom. Lafayette didn’t really need a new waistcoat considering he had more than one, but decided he might as well treat himself while he’s here.
He browsed through the small selection of coats and looked each one over until he found one with a pretty flower pattern. It probably wasn’t within work regulations, but Lafayette had a life outside of his job.
Just as he was about to check out, the front door bell rang. He instinctively turned his head.
In came three woman-shaped figures, and with them, a billowing mess of blue, orangish-red, and yellow fabric.
“Angelica! Daddy said we’re going shopping tomorrow! Why’re we going now ?”
Even though it’s been weeks since they’ve last spoken in person, Lafayette immediately recognized that voice. Margarita Schuyler. The two with her were Angelica and Elizabeth Schuyler.
“It’s fine , Peggy! We’re only here to get a few things, anyway. It’s not my fault that you spilled orange juice on my new stockings!” exclaimed Angelica. Eliza patted Peggy on the back lightly, a sheepish smile on her face.
The three ladies walked past into the socks section. Lafayette took his opportunity to dart to the checkout. In doing so, it caused his hood to fall off, exposing both his stained face and his stained clothing. Dear God, could this day get worse?
Lafayette sighed deeply and placed his items onto the clerk’s table. The lady at the table read off the prices and Lafayette reached into his pocket for his wallet.
From the back of the store, there was a shriek and the sound of someone running away from something. The clicking of heels reached Lafayette’s ears too late. Once he turned his head, he was met with a staring face.
Peggy Schuyler was standing there staring at him.
Lafayette turned, gave the cashier the money, bagged his items, and bolted out of the store, all before Peggy could even get a word out.
Lafayette quickly decides that this is the worst day of his life.
Notes:
cliche, I know
sorry if the characters act like a 15 yr old girl in this its bc im a 15yr old girl
also the title makes no sense bc im stupid
Chapter Text
Being a lady wasn’t easy.
The layers of clothing, all the petticoats and underskirts, the lingering smell of sweat that seemed to cling onto one’s skin no matter how clean they were.. It was a lot, and that was only scratching the surface.
Peggy didn’t even want to get into the discrimination they faced.
All these thoughts always filled her mind when she had nothing else to do. It was a Friday so her father was at work and she could laze around as much as she pleased. Peggy idly stretched her back out of the couch. The corset of her dress dragged across her skin and it caused her to shudder. She didn’t understand why she had to dress like this in her own home, but her father insisted that his daughters always look their best.
Peggy sighed and sat back up. She was holding a glass of orange juice and decided that she would rather not spill it all over the couch. She looked to her left, then to her right, and when she realized there was no one watching, she let herself slouch. The position wasn’t exactly comfortable due to the dress, but it wasn’t every day she got to do this, so she did it anyway.
She spotted something on the coffee table that stood a few feet in front of her. A folded pair of white stockings. Her sister, Angelica, had bought them just a few days back. She bought them in preparation for Eliza’s upcoming wedding. It felt like Hamilton and Eliza had only met yesterday, but now they’re getting married. Well– perhaps it’s because it’s only been half of a month.
They were white and made out of a stretchy material, the kind that had to be held up by garters. Peggy always wanted a pair like that, but once again, her father had said she was too young to wear garters and instead got her tight-fitting socks. She was twenty two, so really, she didn’t understand why she couldn’t wear garters.
Peggy sat her glass on the table and stood up. She picked up one of the socks and looked at it like a dog inspecting a bone. The only thing that was really different was the stretch factor, but it still intrigued her.
“ Peggy? ”
The sudden voice caused Peggy to jump. She dropped the sock back onto the table. Her hip hit the table and shook it enough to cause her glass of orange juice to fall on its side and spill all over the socks.
They were absolutely ruined.
A hand pushed Peggy’s frozen form out of the way. A gasp followed after the action.
“Peggy, I just bought these!” Angelica exclaimed as she grabbed her socks. She groaned loudly, “They’re ruined!”
Angelica slammed the stockings down on the table.
“Well don’t just stand there – go get a rag! Clean this mess up!”
The order snapped Peggy out of the daze she had fallen into. She darted into the kitchen, passing by the dinner table and the counters until she got to the rag drawer. She opened it, grabbed the darkest colored one she could find, and then slammed the door shut.
When Peggy got back into the living room, Angelica was already gone. She dabbed the rag over the spilled juice, cleaning it up a little at a time. If this stuff rotted the wood, her father would have her head.
Once she finished the menial task that was cleaning, Peggy went to the laundry room and placed the dirty rag onto the pile of clothes to be washed. She dipped her hands in the small basin in the corner of the room to get the remains of the sticky substance off of her skin. She turned to leave the room when she saw Angelica in the doorframe. She was dressed in her usual pink-orange colored dress, the one she wore strictly outside of the house. She always said that there was no point in having such a beautiful dress if no one would see it.
“Why’re you dressed?” asked Peggy lamely.
“We’re going to get new stockings. C’mon, let’s go,” said Angelica. She had already moved to the door before Peggy could say anything. She wanted to tell her she could wait until tomorrow when their father was going to take them shopping, but she didn’t. She knew Angelica wouldn’t listen.
Peggy was barely dressed for any sort of public appearance, but it looked as if Angelica was going to leave her if she didn’t hurry up. She swallowed her pride and decided to not waste time changing her clothes. She hurriedly speed-walked to the front door. Both Angelica and Eliza were at the door, putting on their shoes. Next to them, Peggy looked like a simple street girl. Jesus.
Peggy grabbed her shoes and slipped them on. By the time she had finished, her sisters were already out the door. Peggy skipped down the porch steps, clutching the middle of her skirt for dear life, hoping she wouldn’t trip. She had to run to catch up to the other two ladies.
Angelica was eerily silent. Usually, she would make small talk with either Peggy or Eliza, but now she isn’t saying a word. She must’ve been really upset. Peggy felt terrible. She didn’t do it on purpose– she really only wanted to see what she was missing. Angelica never let anyone see her stuff in fear of them ruining it. Peggy understands that now. She had ruined Angelica’s stockings, therefore ruining her entire mood. But still, she didn’t appreciate the silent treatment.
Eliza, on the other hand, was talking to Angelica. Asking her what dress she was going to wear to the wedding, asking her what shoes she was going to wear, and so on. She stopped once she realized she wasn’t going to get any answers right now.
Once they got midway into town, they went to the nearest carriage owner to ask for a ride.
Eliza stepped up to one man with short, blonde hair and pale skin. He was sitting in a carriage. He didn’t look like he was going anywhere.
“Good evening, sir,” she began, “May I ask if my sisters and I could take a ride in your carriage?”
The man looked up at her, his eyes filled with an emotion that Eliza couldn’t quite place. She could tell it wasn’t anything good, though.
“Why, sure. Where’re you girls headed?” the man asked. He moved so the ladies could step onto the carriage. They got in the back. Angelica tried to ignore the way the man was looking her over.
“Just up to the tailor, sir,” Eliza answered.
The man nodded and gave them one last glance before turning around.
The carriage ride went without issue, though all three girls were reasonably creeped out by the driver. Peggy personally never trusted men, particularly white men. She didn’t want to stereotype, but every one of them that she came in contact with were either plantation owners, sexual offenders, or both at the same time.
Looking out the window of the small carriage, a thought came to her mind. Thoughts that she had been avoiding.
Why hasn’t Lafayette answered her letter?
It’s been five whole days. The post runs on Wednesday, so she understood why she didn’t get a response on Tuesday or Wednesday, but it’s been long enough. She wants to think it may have been some kind of accident– that he received it and lost it, or that he hadn’t received it at all – but she had a feeling that perhaps falling in love with a boy you’ve met once wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps he had gotten over her or talked himself out of getting into anything serious.
Peggy decides it’s best to not dwell on it. If he didn’t want to talk to her after leading her on like that, then he was just an asshole. An asshole that didn’t deserve her attention.
The carriage came to a halt just outside the tailor’s building.
“Alr’ght, ladies. We’re here,” the driver said.
Eliza was the first one out. The man was staring at her the entire time she stepped down off of the short-staired entrance. Angelica gave the man a dirty look as she stepped out. She wanted to tell him that he had a left hand he could use, but she didn’t. Men were almost always armed in the city, even if it was to show off to their friends. It wasn’t worth the risk.
Peggy stepped off the carriage last. The man did not look at her the way he did her sisters, and for once, Peggy was thankful for that.
Angelica was the first one into the shop. Eliza followed her in, dragging Peggy along. She knew that they were already here and she should just accept it, but Peggy decided to try one last time to convince Angelica to wait until tomorrow. She really didn’t want to go inside looking like this.
As she was being pulled through the door, Peggy exclaimed, “Angelica! Daddy said we’re going shopping tomorrow ! Why’re we going now?”
Angelica scoffed and turned to her. She yelled something but Peggy wasn’t paying attention to her anymore– she was staring at the man in the cravat section that had a brown coat covering the entirety of his upper half, including his head. She only got a glimpse of his face. She couldn’t tell exactly who it was, but she felt like she knew him.
Then, she felt a hand pat her back, was grabbed by said hand, and got dragged across the store.
Peggy sighed and pulled herself together. It didn’t matter who it was. Probably just some creep, like most men in this town.
They passed by skirts, corsets, bodices, and other clothing items before they reached the stockings in the back. Angelica looked through them.
Eliza wandered over to the petticoats, leaving Angelica and Peggy with each other. Usually, Peggy wouldn’t mind. She would stay right there with her sister under different circumstances, but considering Angelica was very much pissed at her, Peggy decided to take a detour to the corsets. She tried to ignore the little voice in her head saying she should get something pretty so she’ll look good for Lafayette the next time they see each other.
She idly browsed over the items, looking for one in her measurements. She passed by one with a green undertone, one adorned with flowers, and another with a portrait of a baby painted onto it. Peggy wondered silently why someone would curse their wardrobe with such a thing. They were all awfully ugly.
She kept looking until she found one with a pale yellow color. Her favorite.
Peggy decided to take a look at the one behind it anyway, despite knowing that the yellow corset would be coming home with her. She gaped at what she saw.
A rat .
A rat nibbling on one of the corsets.
Peggy stared at the foul creature for a second before shrieking at the top of her lungs. The rat stared at her funnily for a moment before scrambling into the corset.
Peggy almost tripped over herself as she darted away from the mess. How could an establishment let their store get this disgusting? She almost gagged right then from just thinking about the rat.
As she reached the front of the store, she saw that man again. The one that was wearing the brown coat.
He looked at her with confusion clear in his expression, probably wondering what the hell she was screaming about. Then, something clicked in his head. Peggy saw his eyes grow wide with some kind of realization.
Then, it hit her. She knew that face, even if she had only seen it one other time.
Lafayette.
And he was buying an ugly-patterned waistcoat. Jesus Christ, she needed to make her standards higher.
Before Peggy could get a word out, Lafayette had tossed his money onto the counter, grabbed his items, and rushed out of the store.
Peggy stood there for a few seconds, blankly staring forward at where Lafayette was standing mere seconds ago. She didn’t move until the cashier spoke up.
“Hey girl– are you okay?” she asked with concern lacing her tone.
Peggy shook her head before replying.
“Yes– Yes, ma’am, I’m alright. But, uh,” Peggy paused, “I believe you guys may have a rat issue.”
“ What? ” the cashier exclaimed. Peggy was just about to direct her to the rat, but Angelica came up behind her and grabbed her ear.
“What are you screaming about, Peggy? Jesus, girl, I thought you were getting kidnapped!” Angelica scolded.
Peggy was going to explain what had happened, but at that moment, Alexander Hamilton walked through the door and Eliza freaked.
She ran up to him and immediately started up a conversation. Peggy couldn’t be bothered to tune in. She’s had enough of men for one day.
Angelica sighed and let go of Peggy’s ear.
“Alright, c’mon,” she muttered, approaching the cashier. Peggy followed her.
Angelica put her stockings down onto the counter and pulled out her money. She silently paid the lady behind the desk and collected her item.
She then turned to Eliza and Hamilton. Peggy could’ve sworn that she saw a hint of jealousy in her eyes.
Angelica approached them and took her sister by the arm to peel her away from the male. Hamilton looked over and smiled at the pair.
“The Schuyler sisters,” he muttered, nodding his head.
Peggy popped up beside Angelica to complete the trio. This, for whatever reason, caused Hamilton to huff a laugh under his breath.
“Hello, Peggy,” he said.
“Hello,” Peggy responded with a little wave. That was when Angelica and Eliza bid him goodbye and began to move away, taking Peggy with them by the arm.
Notes:
ok hiiiii
the word count kinda got away from me LMAO that's why it ended so abruptly
I wrote for like 2 hours straight and then my brain COMPLETELY blanked so I decided to leave it right there
anyway, I just want to say thank you to everyone who comments on my fics!! I genuinely would not get anything done if it weren't for you guys and I appreciate it so much <3333
and also, idk if its very noticable, but I tried to do that one head cannon that Peggy always gets cut off bc she dies early
yeah idk if that worked very well LMAO lmk if it sounds overdone
Chapter 6: 1780 - is it a question of if, burr, or which one?
Notes:
first chapter thats not completely lafayette or peggy centric this time omg
accidentally posted this early and the entire thing just said 'ten letters' like 3 times if u saw that no u didn't
I was trying to save it as a draft :((((
ok anyway
warnings - kis
also three dollars in 1780 is about $70.39 in todays money so that's why the price is so low
also-also, just to prevent any confusion, french people do infact kiss their friends on the cheek chat I swear it's normal Lafayette doesn't have a crush on Hamilton in this one I swear
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Alexander thought that his friends were normal people.
But what normal person comes bolting out of a tailor's store at fifty miles an hour?
Alexander had merely blinked, then all he could see was his friend, Lafayette, speeding out of the building he was about to enter. As he snapped out of his temporary shock, Alexander stopped Lafayette by grabbing the man’s shoulder.
“Lafa—” Alexander had started, but he was then so rudely cut off by a chaste kiss to the cheek.
“Can’t talk right now— I’ll see you later, Alexander!” Lafayette exclaimed before dashing off down the street. Alexander could only watch as the man went. A distant thought appeared in his mind— was that John’s coat?
Maybe Washington was right. He did have an odd taste in people.
He shook his head and turned back around. Alexander didn’t have time to dwell on such a thing. He had more pressing matters to worry about, such as his wedding outfit. He walked the last few steps and entered the tailor’s store.
The first thing he spotted was a beautiful lady in blue.
With a smile gracing her face, Elizabeth Schuyler approached him.
“Alexander!” she said.
Alexander couldn’t help the smile that came to his face as she came to his side.
“Eliza! What a coincidence!” said Alexander. He glanced over Eliza’s shoulder to the other two girls. Peggy was being scolded by Angelica. It truly was a sight; a grown woman getting berated as if she was a little girl.
“I see the whole family’s here,” he observed.
Eliza shook her head. “No, just my sisters and I. Our father is out at work. He took the carriage, can you believe that? We had to ride in some random man’s carriage to get here! Oh, and do you know what Peggy did earlier? I swear, that girl is just something else—”
Alexander listened to Eliza talk about whatever came to her mind, occasionally sprinkling in some “Oh!” ‘s and “Really?” ‘s between sentences. His mother taught him how to pretend to care about a boring conversation long ago, and even ten years later, he was still using her tricks.
A few moments later, Angelica strutted over to the pair. Alexander enjoyed Angelica’s company. He tries to tell himself that there’s nothing more to it— that she’s just that kind of person— but he knows deep down what he really feels.
“The Schuyler sisters,” Alexander said as he nodded his head. Then, Peggy popped up beside Angelica and stared Alexander down like he owed her something.
Alexander chuckled lightly and added, “Hello, Peggy.”
“Hello,” the woman responded. She waved at him.
Angelica rolled her eyes and grabbed her sisters by the arms. “Let’s go, girls,”
“Aw!” exclaimed Eliza, “Goodbye, Alexander!”
“Goodbye, my dear Eliza,” he responded, dramatically slapping a hand to his chest, which got a snort out of Peggy. He watched as the ladies left. He couldn’t help but feel a weird, melancholy feeling as he watched his fiancée leave.
Alexander always felt bad when Eliza left, even if he knew that they’ll be seeing each other again soon.
He pushed the feeling down and went into the part of the store labeled “FITTED OUTFITS.” Alexander didn’t have a lot of money, but nothing was too good for his Eliza. Besides, he might even be able to finesse himself a discount since Hercules worked here.
He waited patiently in the room. Just when he was wondering where everyone was, Hercules appeared out of one of the connected rooms.
The man had to do a double take before he really looked at Alexander.
“If it isn’t the Schuyler’s future spouse,” Hercules teased. He always enjoyed to pick at Alexander. It was funny to watch the younger boy get embarrassed.
Alexander looked to the side and chuckled softly.
"Well, when you say it like that, you make it sound like I’m marrying all of ‘em,” He responded.
“The more the merrier,” Hercules replied easily. With his measuring tape in hand, he gestured for Hamilton to come closer.
Alexander stood in the middle of the room. He steadily complied with every order he was given, lifting his arms when he was told and turning around when prodded.
“So, what’re you thinking? A nice, black suit, perhaps?” asked Hercules, “Or maybe something else that really pops, like a white waistcoat without an undershirt, adorned in flowers—”
“No!” Hamilton exclaimed with a chuckle as he cringed internally. He wouldn’t be caught dead in something like that.
Hercules snickered in a mischievous manner before continuing, “Oh, c’mon! That would look so good on you!”
“It would not!” Hamilton retorted, “I’d pay good money to see a man look good in something like that.”
"I’m sure you would,” Hercules said with a wink.
Hamilton decided to protect his peace and not respond to that.
After collecting his measurements, Hercules made Hamilton try on various suits, ranging from a simple, white three piece to a flowery mess which Hamilton quickly denied.
Eventually, he settled on a plain, blue coat with a cream-colored waist coat, white breeches, and a white undershirt.
“You are so plain,” Hercules complained. Hamilton didn’t see how that was any of his business, but he didn’t say that because he was afraid of risking his chance at a discount.
“Well, I believe that this is a better option than any of your.. recommendations," Hamilton chose to say.
Hercules gasped dramatically and rolled his eyes. “Oh, Alexander. I’m wounded.”
“Good,” Hamilton hurled back. He distantly thought about the blow his wallet was about to take.
The pair approached the cash drawer that sat in the left corner of the room. Hamilton searched for his wallet in his coat pocket.
He found it and pulled it out.
“So, how much will it be?” said Hamilton, trying to act like he didn’t care about the price, when in reality, it was the one thought that has been plaguing his mind this entire time.
Hercules thought for a second before he decided on a price.
“Well, I would give it to you for free, but my manager would have my skin,” said Hercules, internally shuddering at the thought of being berated by that old man, “So.. I’ll let you have it for three bucks.”
Hamilton sighed and pulled out the coins. It wasn’t a lot, but it was still more than he usually spared on clothing.
“Thank you, Hercules,” said Hamilton as he handed him the coins.
"Don’t mention it,” said Hercules, who then added, “When’s the wedding?”
“December fourteenth,” said Hamilton, “Do you think you’ll have it ready by then?”
Hercules winced slightly and thought it over. That only gave him about a week. If he really rushed, he could probably finish it before then.
“Yeah,” he responded after a moment, “Yeah. I’ll have it ready to pick up by the thirteenth.”
"Alright," said Hamilton with a short nod. After a moment, he felt like he should thank him again, so he quickly continued his sentence with, "Seriously, man, I really appreciate this."
"Yeah? Well I appreciate getting paid, so thank you for choosing our shop," said Hercules with a short laugh, "Now get out of here so I can get started."
Hamilton smiled at him and nodded.
"Alright, alright, jeez. I'm going," he complained jokingly as he left the room.
Hercules waited until he heard the front door shut before letting out a short sigh.
Jesus Christ," muttered Hercules to himself, "That guy is something else."
Lafayette arrived home faster than he ever had before.
As soon as he left the tailor's, he booked it back to the main square to find a carriage to ride. He had to ride with some creepy white man— but it didn't matter. He got Lafayette home, that's all that truly mattered to him right now.
Lafayette didn't think it was humanely possible to feel this embarrassed. Not only had he made a fool out of himself in front of Washington and Laurens, he also had to go and look stupid in front of Peggy and Hamilton. He wasn't ever going to live this down.
Worse of all— he still had to go to the post office. While he was drowning in his mortification, the post office had completely skipped his mind. He hadn't been to the place since he mailed that letter to Peggy around a week and a half ago.
Slumped against the wall, Lafayette let out a short sigh. He shut his eyes and rubbed them with his thumbs. This had to be the longest day ever.
He pushed himself off the wall and moved into the restroom.
He took one look at himself, sighed, and almost began to cry. He looked a complete mess. He put his new clothes down on the counter.
Lafayette grabbed a bucket and turned to leave the bathroom. He made his way outside where the well was and he attached the bucket to the rope. Then, he lowered it into the water. Once it was filled, he pulled it back up, took the bucket inside, dumped the contents into the tub, and repeated the process until the tub was half full.
Lafayette peeled off Laurens's coat, took off his waistcoat, undershirt, breeches, and undershorts. He tossed the clothes aside (although being careful with Laurens' coat), grabbed two wash-rags off of the shelf, and climbed into the tub.
He let out a relaxed sigh as he sunk into the water. It wasn't exactly warm, considering it was the middle of winter, but with how long it took to bring in the water, it had heated up significantly. For a few minutes, he did nothing and just relaxed into the bath.
After a while, Lafayette decided that it was time to start washing up. He lathered soap onto his rag and began to clean himself.
In no time, the big grey glob of ink on his face had disappeared.
After finishing up his body, Lafayette tugged his hair tie out of his hair. The black curls coiled down around his face, landing on his shoulders. It was always a pain to wash it, but he loved how it looked when it was nice and clean.
He took some more soap and smeared it into his hair. Then, he took some water and added it on top to make it easier to rub in.
Lafayette scrubbed his hair for a couple of minutes before deciding that it was clean. He stood in the tub and grabbed a towel from the nearby shelf. He placed it beside the tub and stepped out. He turned back to the tub and got on his knees beside it, then, he leaned over and dipped his head inside to rinse off his hair.
Once all the bubbles were gone, Lafayette stood and grabbed the towel from the floor. He spent a little time drying himself before pulling the towel around his waist and stumbling out of the restroom. He entered his bedroom.
He searched through his drawers for a fresh outfit. He settled on a simple white waistcoat, a white undershirt, regular undershorts, and cream colored breeches. He was only going to the post office, after all. A simple outfit made it easier for him to change once he came back home.
Lafayette swiftly put the clothes on before exiting his room. He took his towel that had previously been discarded onto the floor with him. He went back into the bathroom and grabbed his dirty clothes and the rags. He separated them from John's coat and tossed them into the hamper. He looked over at the still-filled tub. Only one glance later was he deciding he'd take the water out when he got home.
He put his shoes back on and headed out the door.
Lafayette decided to walk. He wasn't going to take his chances with a creepy white man again. Not today.
He didn't leave far, just a couple of blocks. It was really only a ten minute walk. Soon, he was pushing the door to the building open, taking in the earthy smell of the place.
The bell on top of the door rang as he entered. It caused the man at the desk to look up from the book she was holding.
"Ah, Lafayette. Finally here to get your mail?" the guy asked.
Lafayette chuckled awkwardly and nodded. He went up to the desk as the man turned to grab the various papers and letters from the box. The man turned back around and handed the mail to Lafayette. It wasn't much, just a few letters and some type of propaganda from the British parliament.
"Thank you, sir," Lafayette said absentmindedly as he turned to exit the building.
He flipped through the papers, his eyes grazing over the names.
On the very last one, Lafayette saw the name on the envelope.
It was a letter from Peggy.
If he wasn't in public, he would've beamed at the sight of her name on that paper. This whole week that he had spent hoping for a response had finally came to a close. Lafayette hadn't ever been so happy to receive a letter.
The man at the desk shot him an odd look and Lafayette took that as his cue to leave.
He was practically skipping home, feeling overwhelmed with joy. He doesn't think that he's ever felt like this before. In love. Sure, he loved his friends and all, but not like this. Not in a way that made a person want to—
Lafayette arrived home.
He swung the door open and immediately went to his bedroom to change. He dropped the tossed the mail he didn't care about into the trash can and then placed Peggy's letter on the dresser.
He stripped off his upper layers and put on a simple, white undershirt that had no cravat or other neck piece, then he took off his dress breeches and traded them out for a more worn-out, comfortable pair of pants. Lafayette then remembers that he has the tub to clean out.
He sighed shortly and decided that it couldn't wait. It was completely unsanitary to leave used bathwater sitting like that.
He went into the restroom and grabbed the bucket that was seated on the floor. He dipped it into the water, filled the bucket to the brim, and then took it to the window to pour it out. He repeated the process until he finally emptied the tub. Lafayette really hopes that someone comes up with a less boring and faster process of this in the future— maybe then people wouldn't smell so terrible.
Lafayette stretched out a little and popped his back. A small groan passed through his lips as he did so. He was only twenty three, but doing that made him feel sixty. He grabbed John's coat and his stuff he bought earlier from the counter.
He left the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Once he was back in his room, he put John's coat on the dresser. The next time he sees John will probably be at the wedding, so Lafayette decides that he'll give it back then. He doesn't bother putting up his new clothes.
He also chose to ignore the fact that he hasn't eaten anything all day in favor of getting to read the letter sooner. He grabbed the letter and collapsed onto his bed like a lovesick teenager.
Lafayette gently tore the envelope open and took out the letter. He made sure to move with care so he didn't accidentally rip the paper.
He spent a long time just admiring her handwriting before actually reading its contents.
“My dearest Lafayette,
I’ve received your letter. Please, once we meet again, refrain from the constant apologies. It is quite alright, I assure you. Though I cannot say I was not waiting for your letter to arrive. Also, please, call me Peggy. We’re friends, right?
To answer your questions, my father was yelling at me because I had gone against his only rule and disobeyed him. He had specifically told me to stay away from anyone I didn’t know. It was his only demand, yet I still did not listen. Despite his dramatic ways of punishment, he is a good person. He only wishes to ensure my absolute safety, even if it’s suffocating.
I’d love to know more about your job as a soldier. What is it like, being around Mr. Washington? Is he as elegant and eloquent as the papers assume?
I wish I could write more, but I’m running low on ink. I hope to see you soon. Have a good day.
- Peggy Schuyler."
Oh.
Lafayette felt a weird, tingly sensation.
He pushed that feeling down and thought about how he could respond to this letter.
He got up and went over to his desk. He grabbed a quill, some ink, a piece of paper, and got to writing. He also made sure to have the letter on standby for reference. He wanted to answer each and every question she had asked without missing anything. That would show her that he cares, right?
Or would it just come off as obsessive?
Lafayette passed the thought by and began to write.
It's the day before the wedding and Eliza doesn't think she's ever been more nervous.
It was going to take place in her home, in the family parlor. Alexander had invited all of his friends, along with Angelica, though Peggy hadn't invited anyone. Eliza hadn't really went all out— she didn't even buy a new dress. She was marrying him in her gorgeous blue one that she had bought many years ago. It was what she personally believed to be her best dress.
She also hadn't set a dress code, though Alexander did want every man in black coats. She really hoped that no one would come dressed in something terrible. That may just ruin the entire night for her.
Eliza sighed shortly and ran a hand down her face. Who knew that getting married could be so tiring?
At least it was mail day. She’d love a letter from Alexander right now, it would soothe her frayed nerves.
Eliza usually had a lot of patience, but now, in between her stress about the wedding and the annoyance of her family (which, she could admit, wasn't as bad as she said it was,) that patience was thinning faster than her father's hair.
Though she had been careful to avoid snapping at her father, she was a little less careful when it came to her sisters. She couldn't count just how many times she's yelled at Angelica and/or Peggy in the past week. Eliza felt bad about it, don't get her wrong, she loved her family, but she just couldn't help it. It's like everyone around her decided to turn off their brains for the past week.
Then, there was a knock on the front door and Eliza jumped up from her place on the couch. She went over to the door and opened it. There stood the mail man, and held in his hands was a bundle of letters.
"This is the Schuylers, right?" asked the mail man. Eliza would've rolled her eyes if it had been anyone that wasn't holding the one thing she wanted to see today. This man had been to her house multiple times a month to drop off mail, yet he still always asked that stupid question.
"Yes, sir," Eliza responded instead of voicing her thoughts. She needed that mail, after all.
The man handed her the bundle, bid her goodbye, and left. Eliza shut the door and brought the letters to the table in the middle of the sitting room. She untied the tie and spread the letters and other mail across the table.
"Angelica! Peggy! The mail's here!" called Eliza. She sat down and began to look through the letters. She was only really looking for one specific name, so she passed most of the letters by without a second thought.
Angelica came down the stairs, Peggy followed close behind. They both took their seats around the table and looked through the various letters and papers.
"Y'know, Eliza, I really wish you'd come up to the parlor and take a look at the decorations we've set out," said Angelica as she peeled open an envelope.
Eliza scoffed shortly. "But, Angie, that would ruin the surprise,"
Angelica shrugged and nodded.
"I suppose it would. It can wait until tomorrow, I guess." she said. Angelica took a glance over to Peggy, who was looking down at an envelope. She said nothing to the girl, but nonetheless, a short smile grew on her face. Her little sister was getting older. Getting a boyfriend.
Angelica only kept quiet about the fact because she knew that her father babied Peggy. He still saw her as a little girl. He wouldn't react well if he knew that his little girl was sending letters to a foreign boy.
Peggy got up and bolted back up the stairs without a word to Angelica or Eliza.
Eliza shot her a weird look before she looked back down to the letter she had found amongst the pile. It was from Alexander. She cracked open the sealed paper with her fingernail and opened the letter.
She unfolded it and began to read it's contents.
"To my beautiful Eliza,
It's been merely a week since we've last spoken, but I feel as if I am missing a part of myself when I am away from you. It may be later when this letter reaches you, maybe even after the celebration, but I cannot help but think about the wedding.
I believe that I have prepared myself nicely for the event, but I still fret that it is not enough. Is there anything that you lack or want? I will happily bring it to you if that is the case. Please, do not hesitate to let me know. I want the best for you, my Eliza. I need to know that you will be the happiest you possibly can be on your wedding day. It is one of the most special days in a woman's life, and I'm sure that you know.
The night is dark and I must go, my dear, but know that, even in this short message, that I love you eternally. Goodnight, Eliza.
With love,
- Alexander Hamilton."
Eliza couldn't help the smile that graced her face after she finished reading the letter. She was so lucky to have this man. He was so sweet— so caring.
She really hoped that this love she felt would never cease or falter.
Alexander Hamilton was the love of her life, and she hoped that it would stay that way forever.
Peggy opened the letter with haste as soon as she sat down on her bed. It's been so long since they've had any sort of communication that she was wondering if he was even still interested at all.
She sat the letter down on the desk and let her eyes scan over it.
"Dear Peggy Schuyler,
I am so sorry for this response being so late. I saw the letter you had sent me and once I looked at the date I had realized something— I got it a week late! Though, I do suppose that this is my own fault, considering that I had not visited the postal office in a while. Please, my dear Peggy, forgive me for my inconsideration.
As for the subject of your father, I have one more question for you. Is he usually that angry? In no way do I mean to offend you— but I would like to know if he is really like that all the time. If so, I'll make sure to add your name to my prayers tonight.
Regarding Washington, all I am able to say is that it is all true. The man is just as amazing as the rumors and papers state, maybe even more so. I heard that he is coming to Alexander and your sister's wedding. Hopefully, you'll get a chance to meet him for yourself.
On the topic of the wedding, my dear Alexander has invited myself and the rest of our little group to come. I hope that he asked for permission from the bride, but knowing him, he probably didn't. I pray that your sister does not get angry with him.
I will hopefully see you December 14th. Until then, Peggy.
- Lafayette."
Peggy smiled down at the letter. How could a man write so seriously whilst simultaneously making jokes? She never understood how to do that type of stuff in her own writing. She always tried to stick to one or the other, never both at the same time. It was honestly a little impressive.
She folded up the letter and slipped it back into the envelope.
Peggy didn't have time to respond— after all, she would see the man tomorrow anyway. She can say anything she needs to say then.
She got off of the bed and left her room. She had a lot of stuff to work on.
A lot.
Decorations on top of decorations— they had hid them from Eliza in the family's parlor room, but if they hadn't Peggy was sure it would be flooding the entire hallway.
The wedding was tomorrow. Tomorrow, her sister would be getting married to that greasy man.
Peggy didn't exactly like him, but her sisters did, so she couldn't object. She knew that her father didn't exactly like him either, but he's made his mind up. There's no changing Phillip Schuyler's mind.
.. She better get to work on those last minute decorations.
Wedding's weren't ever Lafayette's favorite occasion.
You go in, sit and drink wine (if they have it, even worse if they don't), and watch a happy couple get even happier.
All it did was make Lafayette jealous, if he was being honest. He'd had girlfriends and casual flings before, sure, but nothing serious.
The only two reasons he's going to this wedding are Alexander and Peggy. If he skipped out on Alexander's wedding for no good reason, he would skin Lafayette.
And for Peggy?
Well, he just wanted to see her.
Talk to her.
Maybe kiss her.
Lafayette sighed to himself. There's no way that a girl as beautiful as Peggy was ever, in a million years, going to kiss him tonight. He'd be lucky if she looks in his direction after what he did. Hell, he wouldn't want to talk to someone who didn't respond to a letter for a week and a half either.
He slipped on his usual outfit. A dark blue coat, a cream-colored waistcoat, plain undershirt, socks, and white breeches. Just like everyday. He had already bathed earlier that day, so he walked skipped the bathroom and stopped at the front door to slide his boots on.
Lafayette opened the door and headed out.
It took him over thirty minutes to walk to the Schuyler's mansion. He really needed to invest in a carriage.
On the way, he saw three people he knew. The first was Laurens, who he approached and walked the rest of the way with. Washington, who was in a carriage. Lafayette accidentally made direct eye contact with the man when he went by. Then, last and least of all, Aaron Burr.
All of Alexander's friends disliked Burr, but Lafayette despised him.
Burr couldn't ever pronounce his name right, and Lafayette didn't really mind since he had a lot of titles he could go by, so he told Burr to call him Marquis. But, even then, he still managed to disrespect him by pronouncing "Marquis," as "Mar-kiss."
That really pissed Lafayette off. To the point where he dreaded having a conversation with the other man.
He doesn't want to think about the time they were out drinking and Burr said that Lafayette's head was shaped like a pineapple. The way none of his friends defended him only made it worse. Burr walked by like he didn't see Lafayette, but he knew he did.
Lafayette promised himself long ago that he would duel that man one day.
"Laf? Are you listening?" A voice broke through his thoughts. He almost tripped on the sidewalk.
"Oh— yes," responded Lafayette in a haste, "I'm listening, Laurens."
Laurens shot him a sidelong glance.
"Were you, now?" He asked skeptically, "Then what did I just ask you?"
Lafayette scoffed.
"I don't know. Probably something stupid, if I'm honest," Lafayette muttered.
Laurens' brow furrowed. "Why are you so annoyed?" He asked, "Did I do something? Would you rather walk alone?"
Lafayette's mood softened. He didn't mean to make Laurens think he did something wrong.
"No. No— it's just.." He trailed off for a second before adding, "It's nothing, Laurens. Don't worry about it."
Laurens shrugged and they continued to walk in silence until they reached the mansion. There was so many people there that it was difficult to get through the door without stepping on a person's foot.
Lafayette was beginning to feel a little out of place. Everywhere he looked, every man was wearing a black coat. Even Laurens and Hercules were wearing black coats.
He felt as if there was something someone didn't tell him.
Then, he saw Alexander.
The man was wearing a blue coat, almost identical to Lafayette's own.
When he gave him a weird glance and sat his glass down to approach him, Lafayette knew that there was something he hadn't been told.
"What are you wearing?" Alexander sneered out when he got to Lafayette. He grabbed him by the cravat and for a second, Lafayette thought he was about to meet the business end of Hamilton's fist right here at this wedding.
"Alex— was there a dress code?" Lafayette stammered out.
"Yes, there was a dress code!" Hamilton snapped, "Jesus, Lafayette, if you were to read your goddamn mail for once, you'd know that!"
Lafayette opened his mouth to defend himself, but he was swiftly silenced by Hamilton's hand coming down on his cheek. He hissed quietly in pain and pushed Hamilton off of him.
At that time, Hercules and Laurens both stepped forward.
"Calm down— both of you," Laurens said as he inserted himself between the two men. "This is a wedding! Alexander, are you really going to fight at a wedding? Your own, at that."
Then, in a lower tone, he added, "Besides, you know Lafayette doesn't read much English. Cut him some slack, man. He probably couldn't even tell what you wrote."
Lafayette threw him a dirty glance. He definitely could read his mail— he just.. didn't. He decided not to say anything because Laurens was the one defending him, after all.
Hamilton's angered glare softened. He looked past Laurens and to Lafayette.
".. I'm sorry, Lafayette," He said softly, "Just— just take it off, okay?"
Lafayette nodded quickly and took off his coat. He placed it on a nearby chair. He could only pray that it would be there when he returned for it later tonight.
When he looked back to apologize to Hamilton, he only found that the other was already gone. Laurens was also missing, and with a glance to his left, Lafayette found out that he had been completely abandoned by all three of the boys.
Whatever. He didn't need them to help get around here, anyway. He had a brain in his head, contrary to apparent popular belief.
Lafayette stumbled past pretty ladies in silk dresses. The few he had spoken to had turned him down. But he couldn't really blame them. They had ears— they probably overheard everything that had happened.
Afterall, now that he's coatless and in no upper-layers other than his waistcoat and undershirt, he probably looks like an inconsiderate asshole for coming to a wedding in such a state of undress.
Lafayette sighed and found a place to sit down.
It really was his fault that Hamilton was upset. If he had known that only the groom was to wear blue, Lafayette would've worn something else. But, in his rush to read Peggy's letter, he had skipped over all of his other mail and disregarded it completely.
He couldn't help but feel like a fool. Even though nothing was really ruined, he was still burdened with the knowledge that he had been the one to anger Hamilton on his special day.
Lafayette knew, deep down, that everything was fine, but he couldn't stop that odd, guilty feeling that had filled him to the core. Maybe it was because his friends had left him right after. Or maybe it was because Hamilton had hit him.
He sighed deeply. He really seemed to be doing a lot of sighing lately.
The ledge he had sat on creaked every so slightly. He glanced to the side, only to become a witness of a man and a woman absolutely devoring each other.
Lafayette quickly looked away and got up before they got the chance to accuse him of being a creep.
In his hurry, he accidentally walked straight into someone. From the silk feel of the fabric on their back, it was a woman.
"Shit," exclaimed Lafayette, "I am so sorry—"
He paused as he looked down at the person he had ran into. A light yellow dress. Curly hair slicked back into a tight ponytail.
"Peggy," said Lafayette. His tone came out breathy. He couldn't help the way he smiled when he realized who it was.
The woman finally turned all the way around and looked at him.
"Lafayette," said Peggy, a smile similar to Lafayette's graced her face, "I didn't know you were already here. I was waiting for you."
"Really?" He asked shortly. It wasn't really a question, and Peggy seemed to know that, so she didn't answer.
She grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him to the next room. When he exclaimed in confusion, she explained herself.
"The wine is in this room—Eliza didn't want everyone to be drunk during the ceremony, so she hid it," Peggy said.
Lafayette sighed and let her drag him into the next room over. It was completely empty, save for the two of them. When they went inside, Peggy shut the door, though the knob didn't have a lock. Lafayette shot her a weird look.
"What?" Peggy asked innocently, "If my father walks in on me giving on his wine, he'll have both of us hanged from the chandelier."
Lafayette tilted his head slightly in confusion.
"So— we aren't supposed to be in here?" He asked in an incredulous tone.
Peggy simply huffed laugh under her breath and said, "No, Lafayette. We aren't supposed to be in my father's wine closet during a wedding but it doesn't matter. I give you permission."
Lafayette exhaled shortly and nodded without another word.
Peggy opened the cabinet and grabbed a bottle. Then, she grabbed two glasses.
"I thought you didn't drink," Lafayette interjected through the silence.
"Mm. I haven't. Not yet. But.. what better day to try it?" Peggy answered.
Lafayette shrugged and grabbed a glass when Peggy was done filling them. They clinked their glasses together in a mock-toast.
Peggy took her first sip. It wasn't nearly as terrible as she thought it would be. It tasted almost sweet. Maybe it was just the expensive stuff her father bought, but this was good. Better than most regular drinks she'd drank.
It burned a little going down, but the more she drank, the quicker she got used to it.
By the time Lafayette had drank half of his glass, Peggy was already getting a second round.
"Easy," Lafayette muttered, "If you pass out, I'm gonna pass out from shock, then someone's going to come in here thinking we're dead or something."
Peggy snickered a little and put her glass down for a second.
"Passing out from pure shock. Now that is a new one," She laughed.
Lafayette rolled his eyes playfully, but didn't respond. Instead, he took another sip of his wine.
"This wine tastes like money," He said eventually. It got a chuckle out of Peggy, but she didn't reply.
They drank in silence for a long time. It was the comfortable kind of silence, at least. It was Peggy who broke it.
"You know," she began, "I didn't think you were ever going to respond to my letter."
Lafayette huffed a laugh under his breath and replied back sheepishly, "I didn't know you wrote me back for a while. I was caught up in work and all these other things—I didn't go to the post office for like, two weeks."
Peggy chuckled and took another sip of her wine.
Lafayette let his passing glance linger on her face. She truly was a beautiful woman. Long, dark curls, a pretty face..
That wasn't where her beauty ended, of course. He didn't only love her for her body. She was a sweet woman, too.
He glanced back up at her eyes, only to realize that she's staring right back at him. Peggy put her glass on the table. Lafayette did the same.
Peggy took a few steps closer. Lafayette would've copied her movements, but the room was so tiny that he was already pressed against the wall. He supposed that she wasn't lying about this being a wine closet.
Then, her hands were on him. One on his cravat, one on his face. Lafayette let out a quiet gasp that he would deny happened tomorrow.
She tugged his head down just a little and leaned in. He could feel her breathe on his skin. It was a foreign feeling, but not at all unwelcome.
Lafayette didn't get to lean in before Peggy pressed her lips to his.
At first, it had shocked him, but he relaxed into it and kissed her back.
Then—the unlocked door suddenly pushed open.
Lafayette tugged away from the kiss and looked at the doorway.
There stood Philip Schuyler, staring right back at him.
Notes:
taking requests bc I'm bored asf
discord - heavyf.cus
DM if interested :D
alphabetlol on Chapter 1 Thu 29 May 2025 08:38AM UTC
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