Zero Two Three One | John Laurens X Reader [Hamilton]

XCII: Three Rivals To Confront

❝When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.❞
—Lauren Eden

Alexander titled this poem Spokoystviye. I read it to myself. I love it.

A hurricane to be tamed by a bird—
a dove of all kinds—
has never been witnessed.

But if senses were testament—
my spirit stands trial—
to the jury of pride.

Spite is the spiral—
but if one dared to venture—
tranquility is the eye.

But it is the dove—
the dove alone—
who may pass.

I read it countless times on my way here. Where is here? Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine, far East of the Poland border, and out of where all the fighting has been happening.

Where it was happening, but where it recently been put to a pause.

It's kind of crazy to be here. I haven't been to Ukraine since I took part in a (failed) mission with the AC here. Not much has changed. It's still under Russian rule, and other than the fighting on the West, there is general peace.

And now, Ukraine is the home of peace talks between Russia and America.

They took very long to plan the peace talks — unsurprisingly, neither Eaton nor Ivanovich wanted to be the one to cave in and host these talks. And, of course, there was the issue of where it would be hosted. Eventually, all matters were settled and Kyiv was chosen.

But even then, peace talks have been... unproductive.

I suspected this; such a violent and destructive war won't be ended with shaking hands.

But any more than two weeks is a long time for each president to be away from their country.

It's day eighteen of negotiating. Nikolai, who has been begrudgingly present during all of the negotiating, has ordered me to be escorted from my safe little room in Saint Petersburg to Kyiv. It's... ah.

I sit in the backseat of a black car with windows so tinted they might as well be portraits of the abyss. Ludis and Ursov sit at either side of me, Ludis in a pleasant conversation with the driver and Ursov lazily finding appeal in the dark window.

I close Alexander's journal and hide it within one of the few bags I brought with me, safely beside my revolver and my knife — Nikolai knows not of the revolver's existence, nor does he know I stole my knife back long ago.

I slowly focus my attention back on the quiet voice on the radio — a news station, and while it's in Ukrainian, the language is similar enough to Russian that I can understand it and fill in most of the words mentally.

"Day eighteen of negotiations between President Eaton and President Ivanovich have supposedly shown some improvement since the calamitous collision yesterday. Agreements have been made regarding Russian refugees in Allied countries, as well as additions to the Geneva Convention that both leaders initially opposed. But key topics such as land settlement and the disarmament of nuclear warheads still have both prevented the Presidents from reaching a final consensus. Inside sources suggest that the main conflict is actually not the Presidents, but each President's right-hand confidant — for President Eaton, the confidant being George Washington, for President Ivanovich, the confidant being Nikolai Ivanovich. While discussions have been civil and professional (a surprise to most, considering how long the brutal war has gone on), neither side seems willing to fold on these significant subjects."

My attention drifts away. None of that is a surprise to me, not even the fact that George Washington is present for the peace meetings. In fact, the entire American Army AC is present... more about that later.